


When Soft Music Dies

by Goldengreaser



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Death, Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief, Loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1701728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldengreaser/pseuds/Goldengreaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is lost when the heart is broken. He was not the man she had married and all though she knew this, Cherry wished she could put him back together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ch 1

"Music, when soft voices die,  
Vibrates in the memory -  
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,  
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,  
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;  
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,  
Love itself shall slumber on". - Percy Bysshe Shelley

Work had been difficult that day. Sherry had spent the majority of it nauseous and with a tension headache that had not disappeared in two years. Still, she stumbled through. As the nausea dissipated, she readied herself to go home for the evening. Sherry walked in the door and sat her briefcase down, kicking off her shoes and heaving a sigh of relief. She flexed her toes, moving her feet around in circles, thankful to be out of the heels. She walked into the entranceway and down into the kitchen. She grabbed the blue teakettle from the Maplewood cabinet and walked to the sink to fill it with water to boil. Setting the stove on medium, she placed the kettle on top with a bag of chamomile tea inside, and went to see if her husband was in his office.

The office was in the smallest room upstairs. It was a dimly lit space lined with bookshelves filled with the spines of dusty books he never read anymore and an antique desk with a typewriter that had scarcely been touched. Sherry peaked her head in. "Ponyboy?" he was not there. Sighing, she turned the lights off and walked to their bedroom, gingerly fingering a closed door to the right. He was not home.

She went back downstairs and poured her a glass of tea, grabbed a day old slice of coffee cake from the fridge and sat down. She blew on the tea and took a small sip. Sighing she prayed her husband would come home before sunrise this time, if he made it home at all. The way he drank these days, sometimes Sherry was surprised her husband could even drive.

A little? You call reeling and passing out in the streets a little? Bob I told you I am never going out with you while you're drinking, and I mean it. Too many things can happen while you're drunk1

Sherry shuddered at the memory, jarred from it as the front door slammed open and shut. She set her mug down, stood up and walked into the living room where her husband was struggling with his coat.

"Pony?" she asked, "Ponyboy." He turned to her. His eyes were bloodshot and his breath reeked of whiskey.

"Dam coat." His fingers, normally nimble were missing the silver clasps of the buttons and he tried to yank it off from the sleeves.

Sherry closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She walked closer to her husband, unbuttoned the first button of his coat, and gave him a gentle smile. "Here let me help you."

He pushed away her hands. "do it myself, not baby," he muttered still slurring.

"Pony"

He shoved her away. Sherry reeled a bit but planted her feet firmly on the ground. "I said I can do it myself." He growled.

"Fine, just fine." Sherry threw her hands in the air and left him to his own devices. She headed back into the kitchen and sat down with her mug. Sherry took a sip and sat it down, and ran her hands through her hair.

She heard loud curses coming from the living room and a crash as her husband tripped on the rug on his way to the couch. Sherry sighed. What had happened to the sweet guy she had married who loved to read books and watch sunsets, to the kid she found herself so easily able to confide in, like nobody else before. Had they really fallen so far?

I wasn't trying to give you charity, Ponyboy. I only wanted to help. I liked you from the

start... the way you talked. You're a nice kid, Ponyboy. Do you realize how scarce nice

kids are nowadays?2

She loved him of course, he was her husband. She could not imagine not having him lying beside her, the sound of his voice ringing softly in her ear. The gentleness of his touch when he was sober used to send shivers of delight down her spine. He was never sober anymore. Now, she almost hated the feelings of his hands against her body.

Pony rarely got violent with her. Bob has knocked her around few times, as had her boyfriend during freshmen year of college, but Ponyboy never touched her, not when he was sober, only when he was drunk. Mostly he yelled, said hurtful things that Sherry knew he only half meant. One time though, in a fit of rage he had called her a whore, among other things, then he had pounded on her, leaving whelps and bruises. She nearly had broken her arm and he had disappeared for nearly a month. When he came back, he cried for days afterwards, begging her to take him back. She did and he had not hit her since but he still was drunk more than not and lost his temper in fits of rage. That night, they made love to one another, it was the first and only time in more than four years they had and it had been horrible.

Sometimes Sherry found it so hard to believe that the same hands that had left so many bruisers and contusions were the same hands that had once caressed her skin gently, that had written her beautiful poems that told her how much he had loved her. Oh how she had loved him then, still loved him even now.

Sherry set her mug in the sink and looked outside the small window and out to the stars. She recalled warmly their first date.

She had been a junior in college, at Brown University, and surprised to come in the bookstore and find the ghost from her past working there. She had ignored him for years after the trial. There were to many bad memories to visit and there were already rumors all ready starting that she had a thing for hoods. Back then, Sherry had been too obsessed with her image, something she now regretted. For years, before that day Sherry had nothing to do with Ponyboy. She had heard in a roundabout way that he lost a brother in Vietnam but she'd never come with a casserole dish or sympathies.

So she was shocked and slightly embarrassed to see him there in the most unexpected of places. He'd gotten to be very handsome. His hair was ungreased now and back to his natural red brown. His eyes were more green now, sad and kind. He seemed just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. When after a little while he asked her on a date, more of an outing really, she was even more surprised.

He took her off to a field at night, laid out a blanket and pulled out a basket dinner, some chicken he had made himself and some potatoes, mashed hot and fresh from a local restaurant. He provide instead of wine, two glass bottles of Pepsi. "Sorry," he had told her, "I don't drink." She only wished it was still true.

He was a perfect gentleman, just like that night at the drive in six years prier. He laid down on his back and pointed out the constellations in the sky, telling her stories about how they came to be. He shined brightly as they did, dimming only when he spoke briefly of his dead brother. "I miss him," he said, "I miss him every day." And she held him as he told her all of thoughts just as he had walking from the drive inn, all of his joys and his fears. And Sherry knew, she wanted to keep this feeling, the ease that came when they were together. Sherry had a horrible habit of picking the worst men for herself but she knew, knew she could fall in love with Ponyboy Curtis, was falling in love with him already.

Sherry walked into the living room. Ponyboy was staring blankly at the television. Her heart ached for him. She walked to his side and sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He hunched over. "Sorry," he said, "so sorry," apologizing for earlier.

Sherry kissed his cheek. "I know." She stood up and hoisted him to his feet from under his arms. "Come on, let's get you into bed." She said rubbing his back. "You'll feel better with some sleep."

"Not sleepy." He mumbled, but he was, she could tell. She kept hold of his arm, hers under his as they stumbled up the staircase. There was time when they always walked like this, steady though, as he held onto her in a crowd, whispering funny things in her ear. She used to love to bring him to business dinners with him on her arms or to go with him to a signing of one of his books. The way he would look at her and then say in front of everyone how beautiful she was made her heart flutter. He had not called her beautiful in two years.

She laid him gently on the bed, removing his shoes and socks, and then his pants. She moved his feet onto the mattress. She grabbed the quilt from the edge of the bed and placed it over his body, up to his chin. She leaned over and kissed his forehead, running her hands through his hair; he was already asleep. "Oh Pony…" Asleep he looked so young and innocent. She bit her lip. "I love you," she whispered.

Sherry walked back into the living room and leaned down to straighten the living room rug. She stood up and winced as cramps filled her stomach. Sherry eased herself off the ground and walked over to the mantel where her wedding picture stood. She smiled. Ponyboy was so handsome; He was wrapping his arms around her. She remembered his heart beat against her back, their hearts beating in time as one. She never heard his heart beat in time with her own anymore. It was as if that part of him had died.

He was not the man she had married. He did not talk to his brother though she called him often. He would never talk to his friends Keith or Steve. He called them hypocrites. Keith had stopped trying to talk to Pony eventually. "Listen I love the kid, you know I do; but I can't see him like that."

Steve who had been even more messed up on heroine for a time, then her husband had ever been on alcohol, came for a visit once, he was a drug councilor now. "He's going to have to do this on his own. We can try to help but we can't make the decision for him. Call me when he decided he wants to start using his head again."

Sherry closed her eyes and decided it was time to go to bed. She climbed next him and nuzzled against his warm body, wincing at the smell of whiskey and smoke. She hated when he smelt like that. It always made her think of Bob and thinking of Bob only emphasized just how messed up their marriage, their whole relationship really was.

Sherry leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I love you," She said again, before turning off the light.


	2. Ch 2

There are gains for all our losses,  
There are balms for all our pain:  
But when youth, the dream, departs,  
It takes something from our hearts,  
And it never comes again.

We are stronger, and are better,  
Under manhood's sterner reign:  
Still we feel that something sweet  
Followed youth, with flying feet,  
And will never come again.

Something beautiful is vanished,  
And we sigh for it in vain:  
We behold it everywhere,  
On the earth, and in the air,  
But it never comes again. - Richard Henry Stoddard

She came home from work early the next afternoon after struggling for hours with the ache in her stomach and the nausea that ensued. By the time she had arrived, everything had quieted down. Just as she always did Sherry sat her briefcase down, kicking off her shoes and heaving a sigh of relief. She flexed her toes, moving her feet around in circles. Heels may have been fashionable but they were murder for the working woman.

She thought about another glass of chamomile tea but paused when she heard creaks coming from up the stairs. She pulled off her blazer and hung it on the coat rack. Sherry closed her eyes and made her way to the stairwell afraid of what she might find. Every night when she drove home, Sherry was afraid she might find her husband had left, gone from her home and life forever, or dead, a shotgun nearby, or a rope dangling from the ceiling. She was afraid that this might be the day she found the latter. She walked up and peaked in the office and into their bedroom, nothing.

Her heart raced as she looked to the door to the right. It was open. She looked inside. The room was painted pink and light rose petal curtains lined the windows. The shelves were lined with dolls collected every year for birthday and Christmas. There was a bookshelf with picture books and a few chapter readers. Then there was the bed. She found her husband lying on the white daybed, curled in a ball holding a little stuffed doll in one hand, and a book he himself had authored and illustrated in the other. It looked like he had cried himself to sleep.

Warm tears trickled down Sherry's cheeks as she saw the empty beer bottle standing by a picture frame on the white nightstand. She and Ponyboy stood behind a little girl, a beautiful little girl with big green grey eyes and wavy red hair, worn in sweet pigtails across her tiny shoulders. She stood up on her chair to blow out the four candles of a birthday cake, Her dress was white with blue lace. If Sherry closed her eyes she could still see her spinning around in circles.

"Like a princess mommy, I look just like a princess…"

Sherry sunk down into the floor grabbing the picture in her hands. She fingered it gingerly, lifting a hand only briefly to wipe the salty tears coming from her eyes. She looked behind her at her sleeping husband and then back to the picture. He looked so happy then, his daughter to his front and wife to his side. He was grinning ear to ear, handsome and clean shaven. Oh how Sherry would give anything to go back to that time.

She had loved their little Maggie, Maggie May they called her. She loved nighttimes when she would sit and braid her little girl's hair. She loved taking her to try on dresses or to ballet class. She loved hearing her little voice ringing like the sound of a bell, so innocent and perfect; but she knew that no matter how much she loved their little girl; it was Ponyboy who Maggie adored. And oh how he had loved her.

Maggie was born when she was twenty-seven and Pony twenty-five. He quit his job to write full time and stay home with the baby. He may have gotten a lot of writing done but most if it was at night. His days were spent playing with Maggie May. He had been wrapped around her little finger so tightly. He spent hours playing tag and blocks, even dolls. They would go for ice cream and hamburgers. He used to write her fairy tales about princesses, just like the one in his arms, he used to say.

Sherry sat the picture gently back on the nightstand and stood over her husband. She pushed back his hair and eased the book from his grasp and rubbed it gently. She sank back on to the floor. "Princess Anya and the Magical Lamp" It had been written just for Maggie and it was by far her favorite book. If she closed her eyes she could still hear her husband reading in a soft, quiet voice.

"Once upon a time there was a Princess named Anya. Anya had lots of toys and games but her favorite thing was the lamp her father had given her…"

It was the last thing Maggie had ever heard, the sound of her father reading to her. Sherry took a deep breath and wiped away the tears falling down her face. She couldn't let Ponyboy wake up and hear her cry. It would only upset him. When Maggie died, it seemed like most of her father had been buried right along with her.

She and Ponyboy had been away at the time; Pony to a book signing in Connecticut and Sherry to a conference in LA. They had both gotten a call saying that Maggie was sick. Before either could get home she had taken a turn for the worse and the babysitter had brought her to the hospital.

They waited for hours for any sort of news. The doctor walked out into the waiting room. Sherry stood up with the aid of her husband. Ponyboy rubbed her shoulder gently. "It'll be okay." He whispered softly. She leaned into his chest.

"Can we see Maggie now?"

The doctor shook his head. "I think we better talk." He said pushing open a door to his office. "Have a seat."Sherry's heart raced and she held fast to her husband's clammy hand. She looked at him. He was pale and sweaty. Despite her own worry she felt sorry for him. So much of his adolescence was spent losing the people he loved in hospitals just like this when. She prayed this would not be the case, not with Maggie.

Sherry opened the book and read the inscription. "To Maggie May, daddy's beautiful princess. I love you more and more each day". It was almost funny how one little girl with big green eyes could turn a boy who had once been a hoodlum into a man who gushed over her, wrapped tightly around her little pinky finger. Sherry closed the book and sat it beside the picture. She stood over her husband and kissed his cheek. "I miss you Pony," she said, "I miss you both."

"Bacterial Meningitis, if our assumptions are current we'll need to act quickly, We'll need a lumbar puncture, a spinal tap to confirm. We need your permission of course."

Ponyboy squeezed her hand tightly. "Will it hurt?" Sherry's heart clinched in her chest. The idea of their little girl being sick and in pain was horrifying. What would either of them give to take it all away?

"I am afraid so."

Sherry winced at the memory. It had hurt and hurt a lot but it had hurt herself and Ponyboy too. Neither could stand to see their little girl in pain.

They were allowed to watch from a viewing window. Sherry wished they hadn't been. Maggie was strapped down and she was screaming and shaking and sobbing. She was crying for her daddy and then… She'd begun to seize just like they were told she had when her babysitter had first brought her to the hospital. Ponyboy had pushed and pulled from the doctor's grasp running to the window. "Daddy's here, daddy's here." And Sherry and followed him.

"Mommy's here." She yelled. "It's going to be okay."

But it wasn't. Things were never okay again, not Maggie or her or Ponyboy, and certainly not for their marriage.

They stayed with their daughter for three days and two nights and watched as she only got worse. Gangrene sat in and the doctor had to take her leg. "Do it, just do it." Sherry had half sobbed. Pony said nothing, just watched as the wheeled her in and out of the room. She would never be a dancer now.

By the second night Sherry's parents who had largely ignored the couple until Maggie had been born, angry at Sherry's choice in a husband had showed up along with Darry , Keith and Steve. Maggie could not breath on her own, her heartbeat was weak and she was not conscious. They were not allowed to be right in the room with her without dressing in a plastic gown, gloves and a mask.

By the final night the infection had done its job. There was nothing more the doctors could do. They had to let their baby and end their marriage, go. As she lay dying Keith had ran down and gotten a copy of "Princess Anya and the Magical Lamp". She and Pony lay in the hospital bed with Maggie's limp body between them as Ponyboy read. As he read the final lines

"And they all lived happily ever after…" Maggie died, bringing the best of her father with her.

Sherry closed her eyes and taking a deep breath, pulled a cover over her husband and kissed his cheek. A person could only be broken and put back together so many times. He had lost so much, first his parents, and then the incident neither she nor him liked to think about that had resulted in the deaths of three people, then Sodapop; who Sherry knew he had loved dearly... Maggie, whose death still haunted Sherry, had been the final crack for her husband. She only wished she could fix him one last time.

Sighing Sherry got up and walked out of the room. "I miss you," she whispered silently, "both of you".


	3. Ch 3

"I would die for you. But I won't live for you."  
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

It was evening and Sherry was fixing dinner before her husband came down the stairs. She forced a smile on her face. Sometimes she preferred the drunken Ponyboy to her husband when he was nursing a hangover.

"I'm making your favorite." She said. Her stomach grumbled. "Chicken and potatoes."

"I'm not hungry." He said walking past her, toward the coat rack in the living room. "I'm going out."

To get drunk. Sherry finished silently to herself. Her heart raced and she grabbed her stomach. 'Wait." She said. It was now or never. She had to do it. "I have something to tell you."

"Whatever it is I don't want to hear it," He said, shoving past her.

Sherry reached out her hand. "Pony…"

He was stalking out the door. Sherry closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant Pony."

He stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around. "You're what?"

Sherry shook her head. "I'm pregnant Pony. We're," she sobbed, "we're going to have a baby."

His hands balled into fists and slacked them into the wall leaving a crack. Sherry backed toward the kitchen pantry.

They had talked about having another child when Maggie had still been alive and they both loved the idea but after she had died they had dropped it. There was too much pain, too much anger. If Sherry had not been away on a business trip, Pony on a book tour. There would have been no baby sister. Maybe they would have gotten Maggie to the hospital sooner; maybe they would still have their little girl. It was something that haunted her to this day and it was killing her husband.

Pony stood there a moment, in silent shock, but then his face began to turn red. He shook his head and balled up his fists. "You little whore. You think," He pounded at the wall again. "You think you can just have another baby and you can replace her. You think you can have another kid and we'll be just one big family again, that everything will be okay again and we'll be happy. Well sorry to burst your bubble…" He walked out the door, slamming it as he went.

Sherry backed against the corner and fell to her knees wrapping her arms around herself. She recalled how different things had been when she was pregnant with Maggie.

"A baby?" Ponyboy asked tossing his head to the side. "I'm going to be a dad?" When Sherry nodded he laughed. He grabbed her around the waist and spun her around. Pony sat her down and wrapped his arms around he caressed her lips with his and they shared a long, wonderful kiss. "I love you." He said softly.

She pushed back some hair behind his ears. "I love you too," she kissed him again, "daddy."

Sherry bit her lip and sniffled. The phone rang and she eased herself off of the floor, walking to the receiver. "Curtis residence."

She gulped. 'Hello Darry," she paused, "Yeha I told him." "No, he didn't take it too well." "Yeha he left." "I know, I know. It will take time." "I'll be sure to tell him, bye." Sherry hung up the phone and went to bed, praying for a miracle and dreaming of her family.

Ponyboy kissed her neck and leaned on top of her. "You're beautiful." He said. She laughed. He kissed the other side of her neck and then tickled her side. She giggled and turned over laying on top of him now. She tickled his side. "Gottcha."

Tiny footsteps echoed in the hall. "Mm." she kissed his cheek. "We have a visitor."

Maggie walked in clutching her stuffed dog, Waggles. "What are you doing?"

Sherry repressed a giggle. "We're, we're…"

Ponyboy laughed. "We're playing."

"Can I play too?" Maggie asked. Sherry looked at her husband and she winked.

"If you can help me get daddy." She answered turning to Ponyboy and tickling his ribs again. Maggie jumped on the bed and they laughed into the night.

Sherry woke up to the pounding of the front door. She ran out of the room and rushed down the stairs, quickly tying her robe before she nearly tripped on the last step and stumbled to the front door. "Hello?" She opened up.

A police officer had her husband by the cuff of the arm. "I think this belongs to you. Found him wandering drunk around the park. Next time I'll have to take him in." He shoved her husband forward and Ponyboy stumbled. Cherry grabbed his arm and held him steady.

"Thank you officer, I will." The door slammed and Ponyboy pushed out of Sherry's grasp. She stumbled and fell against the coffee table with an oomph, clutching her stomach.

"The baby" She could not lose this child, not her baby not again. Not even for Ponyboy, she could not do it.

"Sherry, I…"

Her heart was breaking. She did not want to break her husband's heart. She did not want to live a life without him. She once had been a strong, feisty woman, she'd even burned her bra college but when it came to men…

"He killed Bob, oh maybe Bob asked for it. I know he did but I could never look at the person who killed him. You only knew his bad side. He could be sweet sometimes and friendly. But when he got drunk…"

Ponyboy had been sweet once and friendly but when he was drunk, he was mean, unpredictable. He had only been violent twice now but that did not say the times would not be doubled. And if she had to choose between them it would have to be the baby because if Ponyboy was anywhere near himself he would choose the same. He had been such a wonderful father he loved Maggie so much. If only he could love this new baby just as much.

"Pony has a hard time dealing with death and it just gets worse everytime. I know your hurting Sherry, I don't even want to think how hard you have it right now, but you're strong in ways he isn't."

She took a deep breath."I'm leaving you." She winced and stood up. "and I'm taking our baby with me." The world stopped and for a moment, neither spoke.

"You're, you're what?" Ponyboy asked and Sherry stood her ground thinking of the phone call she had shared with Darry,

"I love my brother Sherry, more than anything. I know you love him too but you have to do what's best for you and the baby. You've already lost one child, if Ponyboy loses control of himself, I'd hate for you to lose another."

"I said I'm leaving you." Sherry forced the tears that were threatening to fall back into her eyelids. "I'm leaving you Ponyboy, the baby; the baby and I are leaving."

Ponyboy backed up towards the door and spread out his arms. "No. no. You can't just leave. Sherry?, Cherry…"

"You little whore. You think," He pounded at the wall again. "You think you can just have another baby and you can replace her. You think you can have another kid and we'll be just one big family again, that everything will be okay again and we'll be happy. Well sorry to burst your bubble." He walked out the door, slamming it as he went.

He had not called her by that nickname since Maggie had died. It had been a little piece of their past that they carried with them, a reminder that something terrible could become something wonderful. She closed her eyes. She wondered if the significance was lost on him this time. She wondered if things could become wonderful again She grabbed her stomach and opened her eyes once more took a deep breath. "Let me go Ponyboy."

His arm shook and he clumsily opened the door. "Fine, Go, just go"

As she walked past him the tears began to fall. She could make a life for herself and the baby, She could learn to love it as much as she had loved Maggie. Like Darry told her….

"I'm scared. I can't do this, I can't. Not another baby. I can't do this and Pony…." He had been silent for a moment before he finally answered her.

"You talked about having another kid when Maggie was still alive didn't you."

Cherry half sniffled and gulped back snot. "Yeha," she sniffled again, "she really wanted a baby brother."

"And if you had that kid would it make you love Maggie analyses."

Cherry leaned against the glass of the phone booth. Her lip trembled and she shook her head, a gesture she knew was lost over the phone. "No," she paused, "Off course not. I would love that baby just as much as I love Maggie and I'd love her just the same. She was my baby. How could I not?"

"And mom and dad were the same way. They loved me and Pony just like they loved Soda. You think that would have changed if they lost one of us? I love Soda now just as much as I loved him then and just as much as I love Pony now. They're my brothers. And these are your kids. You don't replace people you lose."

She could love this baby and still have enough room left over for Maggie and Pony, if he ever came around. She could move on but she knew she would never be completely happy and whole. Not without Ponyboy, leaving him was the hardest thing she ever had to do.


	4. Ch 4

Sherry stayed at a hotel for two days, living off the cloths on her back. She had only a

little bit of money on her and no credit card because neither she or her husband, when he was sober,

liked the idea of spending money they did not already have. So she chose a cheap motel with creaky beds and a rusty shower. She did not get a wink of sleep all weekend, and if the pregnancy had made her nauseas before, it was nothing compared to the stench coming from the brown-stained toilet.

She came home Sunday, only to grab some of her things. She did not expect her husband

to be there. If he was true to form, Ponyboy would be at a bar getting drunk off of his ass or gambling away what little pocket money he had on him. He wouldn't be back until late. Even if he was home he would be passed out drunk in Maggie's room or theirs, asleep, nursing a bad hangover. It never changed with him, not since they had lost their daughter.

Disheveled and rather tired, she opened the door. The house was quiet. It was always

quiet now, save the sound of yelling that filled the night. Sherry missed the laughter, the sound of

her husband's fingers grazing his mother's piano, his rich tenor singing lullabies to their

daughter. She missed her daughter's tiny voice joining in, so very off key, but angelic none the less.

Sherry flicked on the light and looked at the wedding picture on the fireplace mantel. The happy

couple in the picture was no more, their hearts did not beat together anymore and it was breaking Sherry's.

She rubbed her stomach. "It's okay, Mama just misses your Daddy. We're going to be okay."

There was another picture on the mantel, one of Maggie and Ponyboy. His arms were around Maggie as she was wearing a light pink dress, a father daughter dance thrown by Maggie's dance class. He looked so young there, almost as young as the first night Sherry had met him, and all the more happier.

He'd aged so much these past two years that he was barley recognizable as the man in the photo.

"I'm gonna have me a date with daddy." Maggie grinned and ran to grab her shoes.

Watching Maggie leave, he turned to Sherry and grabbed her in his arms. "I just hope you won't be jealous."

Sherry kissed him tenderly. "I think I'll live." "Eww, gross." They turned around and Ponyboy looked over Sherry's shoulder. He laughed and let her go. He ran after Maggie and lifted her up in his arms and began kissing her all over her cheeks as she giggled and giggled.

Where was that man, the man who adored his wife, the devoted loving father? Where was the romantic husband who could sweep her off her feet with just one smile? Sherry would indeed live her life and love her baby. She would try to move on but things would never be the same. Not without her and not without him…

"You think you can just have another baby and you can replace her. You think you can have another kid and we'll be just one big family again, that everything will be okay again and we'll be happy. Well sorry to burst your bubble." He walked out the door, slamming it as he went.

Sherry sighed and looked down at her slightly enlarged belly. "He wants to love you, " she said caressing her belly, "somewhere inside he wants to love you but he just doesn't know it yet, he just doesn't know how." He was so angry so bitter. Sherry grieved, she blamed herself for not being home when Maggie first had gotten sick, wondering if maybe she could have done something different. But Sherry had muddled through, but Ponyboy… Sherry wondered if would ever move on. How much loss was too much?

She walked up the stairs to pack a suitcase. She stepped into the bedroom and paused at

the thresh hold. She turned her head. Was the office door been open, and the light on? She shook

her head and walked back down the hall. Pony's office door was indeed open and the light was on. She peaked inside. There was a can on the table. She walked over and picked it up. It wasn't a beer. She put her hand to her mouth. The red and blue of the Pepsi symbol was unmistakable.

"I'm not much of a drinker." Ponyboy said pulling out two Pepsi bottles on their first date. "but I drink Pepsi like an addict.: he laughed and handed her one of the bottles. "Darry used to say half our grocery bill must have been chocolate and Pepsi."

Her lower lip trembled as she picked up the empty bottle. She held it to her bosom and looked at the typewriter. She pulled out the paper, it was a poem. Ponyboy had not written anything since Maggie's death. Sherry sank down into the chair and read.

For Cherry-

What should I say that has not been said

Words that would leave me breathless

My soul left for dead

For who in this world can divulge the restless spirit

With sweet release of the toil spun around thy own head

For ever a catharsis to cleanse and fill

For words my dear could not do me thus

So only in silence can justice I bring

To my feelings abound and a many

For my love cannot be measured by tool of mortal man's hand

Thy praises I could no more sing then to fall flat with each note I bring

Such is my love for thee

Most convoluted and complex like a riddle within my head

My soul nor my song could do justice and so in silence I do leave

In hopes my dear that thou would find my heart worthy for loving thee

"Oh Ponyboy…" He used to write her poems all the time; little limericks to be found on her pillow before they made love or a little lyrical before work, a villanelle for her birthday. Maybe it was because he had not written anything in two years or maybe it was because she had missed him so. Either way she could not ignore one aching fact. He had never written something this beautiful before.

"You, you found it?" Sherry turned around and dropped the can She flinched, startled.

Ponyboy was shaking slightly and he had bags under his eyes.

"Yes," she said, "I found it."

Ponyboy's ears turned red, like they did on their wedding night, like they did every time he was nervous or embarrassed. "I was hoping I'd be gone by the time you found that."

Gone? Cherry felt her heart stop.

"Ponyboy you weren't going to, to…" She couldn't even finish her sentence. The old image of her husband dying on the floor or hanging from the ceiling came suddenly unbidden.

He shook his head, rubbing the back of his head. His stubble stood out in the dim light and he looked as if he had slept even less than she had. His eyes were sunken in and dark circles rimmed the edges. "No," his eyes widened, "No, never. It wouldn't do any good. No, I've been doing some thinking and I'm checking myself into a rehab center in Tulsa, I called Steve and he's going to help me get straightened out."

Cherry's lower lip trembled. "What brought this on?"

Ponyboy leaned against the wall. He folded his arms, right fingers trembling. "Man I

wish I had a weed." He sighed; again running is hands through his disheveled hair.

"When we lost Maggie I didn't think anything would be okay again. Death has a way of following me around so I just wanted to forget, lose myself. If I lost myself then I wouldn't be losing anyone else, or at least numb myself enough that I'd never feel anything again. It didn't work." He looked so pale and thin there, fragile enough to be blown over by a small gust of breath. She had not seen him look so pitiful and sad in a long time, almost as if he had stopped hiding behind a mask of drunkenness. It was sobering.

Cherry walked over and stroked his cheek. "Oh Pony…"He unfolded his arms and grabbed her hand in his, still trembling.

"I don't know if I can be a dad again, I'm just no ready yet. I don't know if I can go

through that again." He looked at her with red rimmed eyes. "I've lost almost everyone I love and this weekend I realized I'm losing you too. Soda told me once that there were only two ways of knowing you've found the perfect girl, no woman, for you."

He paused and let go of Cherry's hand. "…the moment you meet her or the

moment you lose her. That night at the drive inn, I think somehow I knew even then. Then

Friday when you walked out the door…I just can't do it, I can't live without you. I can't be alone like that again. I'm not ready to be a father again but I'll try."

Ponyboy laughed as he climbed next to her in bed "You know you have this way of

getting everything out of me? How do you do it?" She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Wouldn't you like to know…"

There was the man she had married, the man she loved. But, as happy as she was as much as she wanted to forgive him and be a family again she knew she wasn't ready. Even though she loved him, even though she needed him, it would take time.

"I don't know Pony, I love you. You know I do, but a lot has happened. We're going to have to take things slow. Check yourself in at that clinic we'll see what happens from there."

Pony nodded. "Ya, Ya I understood." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. He looked down at her stomach and put his right palm to it. "I'll try."

Cherry's lower lip trembled and she kissed his cheek. That was all she could ask for.


	5. Ch 5

This is the terminal: the light  
Gives perfect vision, false and hard;  
The metal glitters, deep and bright.  
Great planes are waiting in the yard  
They are already in the night.

And you are here beside me, small,  
Contained and fragile, and intent  
On things that I but half recall  
Yet going whither you are bent.  
I am the past, and that is all.- Yvor Winters

Early the next morning,Steve was there to take Ponyboy back with him to Tulsa. He said it would be best if Sherry didn't come. He would be in isolation the first week and even if he wasn't, withdrawal was hell. She didn't need to see him like that.

It was awkward, saying goodbye. She knew she would not see her husband again some time. They would both be alone and it scared her. The house had seemed empty and cold before but now,she wasn't sure she was going to take it, how Ponyboy would.

His whole demeanor spoke volumes: nervousness, sorrow, regret, it was all there. He still admitted to her that he did not know how well he was going to take to be a dad again. It felt wrong, not to lose his own child but it also felt wrong to replace the one they loss, even though Sherry knew deep down, he knew that wasn't the case.

As she hugged him goodbye, at the airport, she took in how thin, how gaunt he had become. He looked sickly, with bags under his eyes and bones sticking out from under a thin shirt. His pants hung loosely from him and his hair was in desperate need of a cut and shave. He reminded Sherry of Steve,before he had kicked his own addiction to heroin after the war. She could tell Steve must be thinking just about the same thing because behind her husband, he gave her a sad sort of grimace.

When she let go of her husband, Steve slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry Sherry, I'll take good care of him. Old Superdope would kill me if I didn't." For the first time, in a long time, Sherry found a smile curling around her husband's lips, and a nervous laugh following it. She knew he was imagining Darry's face, turning red and angry, Steve running from the door.

Years ago, her husband had told her that his oldest brother was hard as a rock and could not stand him. Of course now they both knew that nothing could be farther from the truth. Darry was the biggest mother hen, Sherry had met in her life. She found it rather sweet,the way he looked after his brother, and her, always so concerned. In a way, he was the one to thank for what was happening now. If he hadn't have told her to leave, then Ponyboy may never have gotten the push he needed to get only hoped it was enough to get him to stay that way.

He'd always been there for them. When they were first starting out, he had offered them a room at his place and then when Maggie... Sherry remembered the way he had held Ponyboy, alone, in the office,, when neither thought Sherry could see, the first time husband had broken down. There was no way he would let Steve get away with giving Ponyboy the best care he could,at the rehab center he worked for part time. Then again, she didn't think Steve would either.

And so, she kissed her husband goodbye, ready to face the next few months, alone...


	6. Ch 6

She didn't go to work that day, after her husband left to return to Tulsa. For how long he returned for she did not know and could not guess. Instead she went home, to the quite of her house. It seemed strange to Sherry that it once had been so full of life and happiness. She knew she should not be sad, things were finally looking up. Ponyboy was getting help, she should be thrilled but instead, Sherry was a nervous wreck. What if he decided, during treatment, that he jus couldn't stand to face her, to face fatherhood again? He'd already confessed to the later. One problem was solving itself but a million more remained. Even if these problems were solved, one more still remained,Maggie...

They would have to face all the pain and the emptiness again, without Ponyboy's drinking to act as a buffer. And there was one more thing... Sherry opened up the room, toys still on the shelves, Maggie's little drawings on the table, cloths in the closet... They would have to pack it all away eventually, to make room for the baby. The office was too small, Maggie's was the only room big enough. It would be like burying her all over again.

Sherry chocked back a sob and placed her hand on her stomach. If only she could have both of them, together. Maggie would have loved sharing a room. She had always wanted a brother or sister. Sherry wrung her hands through her hair.

` She came in from work to the sound of laughter. Maggie rushed to the door, hair a mess and chocolate all around her mouth. She wrapped her tiny little arms around Sherry's waste. "I see your daddy let you spoil your dinner." Sherry said.

Maggie shook her head. "No ,he just let me have dessert first."

Sherry chuckled. "And where is daddy?"

Magpie kicked the ground and gave a sly giggle. "talking to Uncle Darry."

Sherry smiled. "I see and has he been talking to your Uncle Darry long?"

Maggie shook her head and held out a hand, five fingers "Five minutes?" Sherry guessed. Maggie nodded.

She kicked the ground again. "Hey mommy..."

"Yes dear," Sherry asked, slipping off her shoes and walking towards the the sofa. She sat down, Maggie set beside her, dangling her little feet.

"Well," Maggie said, "daddy has Uncle Darry and he used to have Uncle Soda before he went up to be with Jesus and Nana and Papa, right?"

Sherry nodded, having a slight feeling where this was headed."Yes," she said.

"Well..daddy likes having brothers so I want one too, or a sister. I think a brother would be cooler though."...

How many times had Maggie begged for the same thing? Now she was finally getting what she wanted, only she wasn't here to enjoy it and neither was her husband, not in body and not in spirit. Sherry touched her daughter's comforter and sighed. "Your mommy sure knows how to pick them, mmm?" And it was true: Bob, Dallas, her husband... They all were decent men, underneath the booze and anger they hid behind. At least the latter wasn't beyond reformation, or at least that was what she hoped...

Interlude- Tulsa

The facility was neat, a large compound, in the center, Steve had told him, there was a garden. He guessed Steve figured he would like that. He'd never told anyone about that, save Johnny and Soda... It didn't matter anyway. He didn't like flowers anymore, couldn't stand the site of them. Flowers were for funerals and he'd been to enough of those to lose his liking for them.

Darry was there, waiting, when he and Steve got there. Ponyboy guessed he should have expected that. Darry was always checking up in him, calling even when Ponyboy refused talk back. He felt his cheeks redden, waiting for the lecture he knew was to come, for drinking, for how horrible he had treated Sherry, and the list went on. Darry didn't lecture him though and that was worse.

He stood by the truck, the truck they had had for longer than Ponyboy could remember, repaired over and over again. He stood there, hands in pocket, a sorrowful look on his face, eyes creasing under greying hair.

"Hey kiddo, lets see about getting you settled."

Ponyboy hunched his shoulders, suddenly feeling thirteen years old again, being admonished for coming home drunk. Only he wasn't thirteen years old anymore and he had done so much more than spending one night out drinking. So much more... "Ya, he said,let's go." It was the most he had said to his brother since just after Maggie's funeral. Maggie...

Darry through an arm over his brother's shoulder. "Come on little buddy, lets go."

Ponyboy nodded, walking into the center, side by side with his brother, Steve not far behind.

It was almost funny, seeing Steve being the popular one. Growing up it had always been Soda,but at the center everyone seemed to know and like Steve. The doctors and nurses, even some of the patients. It was odd.

Steve shrugged it off though and waved a female doctor forward. The doctor smiled and shook his hand. "Its good to see you Steven, is this your friend?"

Steve a hand through his hair. "Yea, Ponyboy Curtis, he's like a brother to me, so take good care of him, you hear?"

The woman, a tan faced lady in her mid forties, grinned, "Wouldn't dream of anything else. Come on Ponyboy, let's get you settled."

The the dark haired woman indicated a staircase and Ponyboy followed her up it and she took him to what would be his room for the next 12 weeks. The room he was led to was decorated with stark white walls, a metal framed bed, and beat up wooden nightstand and made is college dorm room look like resort suit,, maybe he deserved it, after all he had put his family through.

"I'll give you ten minutes to say goodbye but then you have to leave,"the woman said looking at Steve, "you know the drill." Then she left, taking his bag with her. Ponyboy was about voice a protest when Steve held out his hand.

"Don't worry kid, they're just checking for contraband, its normal procedure. You'll get it back sometime tonight."

Ponyboy bit his lip. He had a picture of Cherry and Maggie in there. He'd hate to lose it.

Darry gave him a weary smile. "Guess this is it little buddy," his voice was strained. Ponyboy just knew he was disappointed.

How many times had Darry told him that you don't stop living because you loose someone? The way he had ben acting these past couple years, it was like a shadow, neither dead or alive. Truth was, he wasn't sure which would have been better. Part of him still wanted to crawl in a hole and die. He deserved it, the way he had treated his wife. It would not be so bad to die, to never have to face the pain of loosing someone he loved again.

The other half longed to live. If he died now, it would kill Sherry. It was bad enough he had treated her like dirt the past couple of years, bad enough that he had become the very thing they both hated most. If he killed himself he would be killing her too. It would be his penitence, to live.

"Kiddo,did you hear me?"

"huh?" Darry had spoken to him and he hadn't heard a thing.

Darry's face softened. "I said was proud of you, for coming here on your own. I've been real worried about you lately. You haven't been yourself since you picked up the bottle. We all just want you to get better."

Better, better? Better implied he was sick, sick like Maggie had been, sick like Johnny was. There was no getting better for them, no matter how much he wished it. Oh how he did. He'd give anything to hold his little girl in his arms again, to hear her laugh, see her face light up at the site of her little brother or sister, her first day of school. There was no getting better for her though, no coming home, not for Maggie, Johnny or Soda or anyone else he loved. Maybe there was no getting better for him either.


	7. Ch 7

The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping  
I dreamt I held you in my arms  
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken  
So I hung my head, and I cried

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine  
You make me happy when skies are grey  
You never know, dear, how much I love you  
Please don't take my sunshine away

It was lonely without her husband in the house. He called every now and then, after his first week was over, and wrote a letter or two; but not often enough. He was feeling sorry for himself, she knew, sorry and maybe a little guilty. He had a way of taking the world onto his shoulder, blaming himself for anything and everything that went wrong and somewhere along the line, things had gone horribly wrong.

The program was supposed to last twelve weeks and then he would be home. Those were the longest twelve weeks of her life. For the past two years she had been so wrapped up in taking care of and worrying about her drunk, depressed husband to even acknowledge her own grief and loss. Now with Ponyboy so far away, every thought, every feeling was out in the open.

She spent a lot of her off time, just sitting in her daughter's room, touching her little things, and sighing. Maggie's cloths were still in the closet, dresses, skirts and overalls, little blouses and pink t-shirts. They were all there, save for the little pink and white ruffled dress they had buried her in. It was meant to be her Easter dress. She'd have a fit over it in the store…

There were eight porcelain dolls on the shelf across from Maggie's bed, one given to her every year on her birthday. There should have been six this year. Sherry bit her lip. It was hard to think of putting everything away. She'd put her daughter in a box once, she didn't want to do it again.

On Sundays, she would go to the cemetery, every Sunday, without fail in rain or shine. Every Sunday there was always a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the stone angel that marked her daughter's grave. There was no note, but she knew who had sent the little bouquet of daisies and white roses; daisies for the memories of lazy afternoon picnics in which their daughter had always begged for a chain of daisies in her hair and white roses for the love and loss felt for such a perfect little girl. It was her husband and she knew it. She had confronted him about it in a letter, but he simply replied that he didn't really care for flowers anymore, but that he was sure Maggie would have liked them. It was indirect but Sherry was sure it was his way of saying yes. He'd never deny their daughter anything, even in death.

So it was that the twelve weeks passed, her stomach began to grow. The sickness and vomiting subsided and she had recently begun to feel the baby inside of her move. At the appointments, the doctor said she and the baby were healthy, if not a little underweight and suggested trying to stay calm, despite the circumstances. Sherry asked not to know the sex of the baby. It was healthy, that was all that mattered. Besides, knowing the sex of the child scared her.

If it was a girl, it would almost feel as if she was trying to replace her Maggie. Ponyboy would surely feel that way too, he already seemed to. If it was a boy then Maggie's room would have to be packed away and repainted. It would be almost like she never existed. Sherry really wasn't sure which was worse.

She called her husband the night before the twelve weeks were up. She wanted to know when he was coming home. "I'm not," he said when she asked, "Not just yet."

Her heart plummeted to her chest. She had done the leaving first. It shouldn't bother her that he was doing the same but...

"It's not that I don't want to Cherry, it's just, well..." He sounded scared then, like the shy kid, she had met some years ago, so sad and unsure of himself and of his place in the world. "I just finished here, I don't know if I'm going to fall back or not. Here I don't really have a choice but out there its different. I don't want to put you through that again. Besides..."

He didn't have to say it. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be a father again, he'd said it before. No, Sherry thought. It wasn't that, not exactly. She was sure he wanted the baby, somewhere deep down. He had to. It was a part of him, a part of her. Her husband was too loving a man not to. No, it wasn't that he did not want to be a father again. Maybe it was simply that he did not know how to be one anymore.

Either way, it felt as if someone had ripped the heart out of her chest. She always loved the wrong men: men who drank too much, fought too much, didn't love her enough. She thought her husband had been different, maybe she had been wrong about that too. Sherry shook her head. Ponyboy loved her, in his own way. She knew that Ponyboy probably did mean what he said about not wanting to hurt her or the baby again, or at least believed it. She also knew part of it was selfishness in his own ability to confront his emotions. He'd been that way since the incident, according to Darry.

The incident... It was one of the few things they just didn't talk about. Their losses were so separate from each other, and so interrelated that they were too painful to address. Maggie of course was another story entirely. Neither one wanted to address that pain. Ponyboy had hid behind alcohol and anger. Sherry had hid behind her desire to take care of her husband. Codependency, Steve had called it.

Sherry sighed and hung up the phone. He wasn't coming home, not just yet. Suddenly the already empty house seemed all the lonelier. With no one to talk to and no preparations needed for a much awaited homecoming. Sherry felt suddenly tired. She trudged up the stairs to the bedroom she had once shared with her husband and slipped into her night things.

Even under the covers, the queen sized bed felt cold and empty, colder and more empty than they ever have. At least in the past few months she could look forward the day her husband would join her in bed. Now she didn't know when he would join her again. She had gone through nights like this before, when Ponyboy would be out late, drinking, but he had always come home eventually. Even when he had been angry and cruel or so sad and pitiful he was like a small, whimpering child to breath reeking of alcohol, it had been a comfort just to have him by her side.

She remembered the good days, when his arm would wrap around her as she lay on his chest. He would bury his head into her hair and his hands would intertwine with hers. She felt safe then, so loved. No man's body, not even Bob's had felt so good against hers, fit so right. When they would lie there together, it felt as if they were one, Ponyboy and her.

The only time the nightly routine only changed on those nights when the nightmares came. She remembered him telling her about them for the first time. They had been going steady for a five months, but he always put off staying the night with one another. "I have an early class," he would say, or "I don't want to take advantage of you." Finally, when she asked if he really cared about her or was appalled by the thought of sleeping with her he told her. His ears flushed red and he looked so embarrassed that she did not know whether to laugh at him or comfort him.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, he told her about how they had started when his parents died and how his brother used to sleep next to him to keep them at bay. After Sodapop had died, they had come back with a vengeance. He had tried sleeping pills, but they had made him sleepwalk with dangerous consequences.

Soon after, she started sleeping with him and the nightmares subsided quite a bit. They still happened from time. He would wake up from time to time screaming or sobbing. When she'd ask him about the dream, her normally calm and together husband would stutter that he did not remember.

Sometimes Maggie would rush in, blankie and stuffed animal in hand. She would climb up on the bed and lay her hand on Ponyboy's shoulder. "It's okay daddy," she would say, "just like you say it's just a bad dream. Want me to stay with you like you mommy stay with me?" Once, she had even made him a dream catcher out of a paper plate and some string and feathers, she had found in the yard. It still sat above their bed. Her husband always shuddered at the sight of it and she would feel sick, but neither could bring themselves to take it down.

When Maggie died, the nightmares or night terrors, whatever they were, returned with a vengeance, worse, she was told, than when Sodapop had died. When she asked what he dreamed this time he would whimper and say "I don't want to remember" Sherry wondered briefly if he had any nightmares since returning to Tulsa. Sighing, she turned off the lights and wrapped her arms around her husband's pillow. Once upon a time it had smelt of smoke and his cologne, now only the faint scent of alcohol remained. She couldn't bring herself to wash it though, it was the closest thing to having him there with her now, and seemed that it could be so for quite some time.


	8. Ch 8

Fare thee well my own true love, farewell for awhile

I'm going away, but I'll be back

Though I go 10,000 miles

10,000 miles, my own true love

10,000 miles or more, The rocks may meltand the seas may burn

If I should not return.

Oh don't you see that lonesome dove, sitting on an ivy tree

She's weeping for her own true loveas I shall weep for mine- Mary Chapin Carpenter

He didn't call her after that, too scared, too guilty, she didn't know. A few weeks later though, she received a letter in the mail and a check for $150.

Cherry,

I'm still not ready to come home just yet. I still love you, I just... I got a job. it's only temporary, Sports Writer for the Tulsa Herald while an old Track buddy of mine is on sabbatical. The pay isn't great but staying with Steve saves on rent. I'll send you more when I can, I know you'll be on leave soon.

Love, Ponyboy

The letter was short, too short. Sherry heaved a sigh. She brought her hand to her bulging stomach. His letter was so brief, so lacking in emotion. She wondered what he was hiding, or what he was hiding from. The baby, girl or boy; she still didn't know, kicked hard at her side.

Sherry forced a smile on her face. "You miss him too," she said softly, easing herself onto the couch. Her eyes moved past the photographs on the mantel to a painting on the wall.

The sky in the painting, was filled with bright reds, pinks and oranges; sunset. the clouds were adorned in beautiful light, casting warm shadows on the world below them. In the middle of the painting, there was a beautiful tree, with long, round branches and green, lush leaves.

Below the trunk was a wreath of wildflowers and tall grass. On the longest branch, in the middle of the tree, sat two turtledoves curled into one another. Her husband's name was scrawled in the corner. The painting had been his belated wedding gift to her.

As he carried her over the threshold to their new home, a small trailer in his brother's backyard she saw it hanging over a table. She put a hand to her mouth and her husband wrapped his arms around her and buried his head into her hair. She held his hands tightly against her chest.

"Oh Ponyboy," she said, "when did you ever have time to do this, it's beautiful" She lifted her head to look at him. His face was blushing. So much for being a tuff guy...

He let go of her and simply took her hand, leading her to the table to have a seat. "Nights off from working with Darry." he said. "You really like it?"

Sherry nodded. 'It's beautiful," and it was.

"Turtle Doves were my folk's favorites. Dad told me when I was a kid that they mate for life." He looked at her then. His green-grey eyes sparkled and he blushed a little. "I hope we will like them, just like my folks were. You never saw two people so in love..."

Sherry smiled. He was so cute when he was flustered. She took his hand, feeling the coolness of his wedding ring against her palm. "I have," she said, leaning in for a kiss.

Sherry bit her lip. "Damn it Ponyboy," she muttered. When she told Becky, at work about the call and then the letter, she said if she were Sherry, she would divorce Ponyboy.

"Honey, first he goes around boozing it up all the time and then this. It aint healthy for a woman to be in a relationship like this. It aint right. You got to think of you and that baby of yours."

The problem was, she was thinking of herself and the baby. A baby needed a father and there could be no better father than her husband, even if he didn't seem to remember it yet.

"He's a runner, what can I say," Darry said when she told him about the conversation. "He's always been one. Runs for track, runs from his problems. If he aint running, he' wallowing. I reckon he's just afraid of brining you done with him. When Johnny…"

Darry paused. Johnny was not something they talked about often, Just like Bob was something nobody talked about. It was the one thing that passed in silence between them. Maybe it shouldn't have been, she didn't know…

"When Johnny died things got pretty bad and then when Soda… We all figured we were going to up and loose him too but he ran from it, as if it was the last thing he wanted to feel. Didn't go out anymore, just stayed in his room and studied. Never cried, least not in front of me, never wanted to talk about it. He came round eventually. He'll come round again. He loves you."

It seemed funny that her husband at one time thought her brother understood nothing, was cold as ice. She asked him about it, years ago at their wedding. He looked kind of sad then, but smiled.

"Soda used to hate it when we'd fight so he sat us down before Nam, asked us to promise to get along, talk to each other, and be more understanding. Darry's been real good about it ever since." He gave a sad sort of nervous laugh. "Guess he doesn't want Soda to come back and haunt him."

Sherry sighed and sat down the phone. She only hoped her brother in-law was right because she could not stand to have her husband so far away.

About two and a half months later she got a phone call from Steve. Her heart raced at the sound of his voice, praying nothing was wrong and fearing the worst.

"It's nothing like that," he said, "The kid don't want it blabbed around but it's hitting his six months sober. There's going to be a thing for him at his meeting next week. I know he won't tell you about it and Darry'd be afraid you'd fly out. He's doing a lot better these days though. Thought you'd want to know."

Six months clean and sober, six months she had been without her husband. She looked at her rounding stomach, full of their child, little more than seven months old.

The radio sounded quietly from the kitchen. She had almost forgotten she had left it on. "Stand by your man. Give him two arms to cling to and something warm to come to when nights are cold and lonely. Stand by your man and show the world you love him. Keep giving all the love you can"...

She looked at the picture on the wall. Two turtle doves. She licked her lips. "they mate for life." Sherry sighed and fingered her wedding ring. There was nothing else to be done. The loneliness of the house was deafening and the cold empty bed at night was killing her. So did the only thing she could think to do. She called the airport and booked a flight.

Up until the actual boarding, she had been as she had always been in her youth, full of determination. This was the right thing to do. She needed to go and talk some sense into that husband of hers. Things would not be solved any other way.

Once she was seated and the plane began to move, however, she started to feel nervous. Maybe this was not such a good idea after all. What if the plane ride hurt the baby and she lost another child? What if the baby was perfectly fine and her husband decided he just didn't want either one of them? Wasn't that basically what he had been saying the past few months?

She gripped the arm rests attached to her seat tightly and took deep breaths. She used to be almost fearless in your youth. Dousing Dallas Winston with a coke, tuning her back on her friends, if only for a moment so she could do the right thing by helping her future husband and her friends… She sighed. She had also been a lot dumber too. "Dating and crushing on all the wrong boys, ignoring the right one because he was too young and too poor for her friends and family to approve of. Even if he wasn't the right boy anymore…

"they mate for life…" It rang in her head like a mantra. The loving father, the romantic notes. She hadn't married the wrong. He'd simply lost himself along the way. If she didn't go after him now, she might never get a chance to have that man back again, if it were even possible to do so.

Sherry fiddled with her wedding ring again and looked out the window at the afternoon sun, and the beautiful clouds. How many hours had they spent on dates, her husband and her, looking out the clouds, making up funny stories about the pictures they saw in them? She smiled in spite of herself. Those were the best dates she had ever had. She wondered briefly if there would ever come a time when they did that again, the three of them: Pony, her and the baby. Maggie had loved that little game.

"Look mommy, look daddy!" Maggie pointed to a cloud formation in the sky. "It's a horsey just like Uncle Soda's. It's Mickey Mouse!" She seemed utterly thrilled. Ponyboy smiled warmly.

"So it is," he said, not a trace of sadness in his voice. Sherry recalled warmly about the first night they met and how he had told her about Soda's horse and how he wanted so badly to help his brother to buy him. Ponyboy rolled over to his stomach and grinned. "That was one grouchy horse, wouldn't listen to anyone but your Uncle Soda."

Talking about his brother with Maggie was the only time Sherry ever saw her husband talk about his dead brother without that sad faraway look in his eyes. When talking to Maggie about him, Pony's eyes sparkled and danced. Maybe it was because the stories about Uncle Soda were her favorite. Sherry didn't know.

"How grouchy was he daddy?"

Ponyboy laughed. He thumbed his chin as if in thought. "Well, he was so grouchy that anytime someone tried to ride him, old Mickey Mouse would buck'em clean off."

Maggie laughed. "How daddy, how?"

A devious smile crossed her husband's face and Sherry just knew that he was about to play Maggie's favorite game.

He lifted her onto her back with one arm and then began to prance around like a horse, bucking only slightly. Maggie held tightly onto his shirt, laughing and laughing. "Giddy up," she yelled. Ponyboy went faster and faster, before gently bucking their daughter off to the ground. Soon they were both laughing, sprawled on the grass and he was tickling her.

Sherry smiled and joined them. She pushed her husband to his back and began to tickle his side. He squirmed like a little child. She had never seen somebody so ticklish before. "Save me Maggie, save me…" He gasped between laughs.

Maggie grinned and plopped right on his stomach, tickling him too.

Sherry awoke with a start. Some had placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a stewardess. "Miss, are you okay miss?" Sherry felt something brush against her cheek. She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep, much less that she had been crying.

"I'm fine, really," she said.

The stewardess looked as if she was not quite convinced. "Well if you're sure…"

Sherry forced a smile. 'I am."

"Well alright," the stewardess turned to leave but looked over her shoulder for a moment. "We'll be landing in about half an hour. If you need anything till then, just page me."

Sherry nodded. "Thank you," she said, "I will." Then the stewardess was gone. Sherry sighed and looked out the window. It seemed the sky was getting darker, the clouds more grey. They would be landing in Tulsa in thirty minutes. Taking another deep breath, Sherry wondered what would be waiting for her when she got there.


	9. Interlude

Heaven bend to take my hand

And lead me through the fire

Be the long awaited answer

To a long and painful fight

Truth be told I've tried my best

But somewhere along the way

I got caught up in all there was to offer

And the cost was so much more than I could bear-Sara McLachlan

About Thirteen Weeks Prior

Nausea, anxiety, shakiness, heart racing; these were just some of the things Steve said he could expect once the alcohol was out of his system. "Withdrawal's hell kid and anyone who says otherwise is either lying or stupid." He had also said that about half a day to two after their last drink some people have hallucinations, but it was rarer than most symptoms. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to worry about that. Of course, Ponyboy was never that lucky.

Ponyboy spent half his first night, vomiting the contents of his stomach into the waste basket by his bed and when that was gone, it seemed as if he was throwing up his stomach as well. His heart raced like he had just ran a track meet and he couldn't keep his hands or vision steady for more than a few minutes. The skin on the back of his neck, legs and arms tingled as if a million tiny spiders were crawling up and down every orifice of his body and he almost could not tell if they were there or not. The pounding in his head would not stop, but that at least was normal. Even so, he'd give anything for aspirin. The nurses who came in and out of the room every other hour, however, would not give it.

So the hours passed until the sun had risen and set once again but there was no changes. He tried to sleep but it hurt. It hurt to think, hurt to breath, hurt to breath. When he was not on fire, he laid on bricks of ice. When he was not dry heaving, the pounding of it heart made it difficult to gasp out a breath. Ponyboy would have given anything then for a drink to stop the madness, but then he would remember.

"I'm leaving you." Sherry said She. winced and stood up. "and I'm taking our baby with me." The world stopped and for a moment, neither spoke. His heart sank and was not sure if he heard correctly.

"You're, you're what?" Ponyboy asked and Sherry stood her ground. He'd only seen her with such a sad, determined set to her face when talking that day in the lot, so many years ago.

"I said I'm leaving you." Sherry forced the tears that were threatening to fall back into her eyelids. "I'm leaving you Ponyboy, the baby; the baby and I are leaving." In that moment his heart broke. In that moment the world fell apart.

Ponyboy backed up towards the door and spread out his arms. "No. no. You can't just leave. Sherry?, Cherry…" He made to stop her again, but she was already gone.

Ponyboy remembered all the times he had hurt her, yelled at her. He recalled how he left her home for hours and days at a time, wondering where he had gone or had come home too drunk to function. Then he remembered the time he had beaten her, the woman he loved.

Ponyboy wondered what kind of sorry husband was that, what kind of father. His daughter would be so disappointed and this other child, the one he could not even begin to think of how to love, what would it think? He was turning into the very thing he hated most and he hated it. "Johnny's father, your him you know, or you will be, if you keep this up," he thought bitterly to himself and wondered what his own father would have to say about it.

He leaned over the trashcan and heaved bits of acid and blood into the already putrid container. His whole body shivered and shook. His heart beat faster and the crawling intensified. He felt the shaking stop. Every muscle in his body tense and then the shaking was back, along with gut wrenching pain. Maybe, he thought, it would be better to do the world a favor and die. Cherry could get a new husband and he could be with them… He closed his eyes and groaned.

It was then a cold hand pressed itself gently against his forehead. "Easy Ponyboy, it's going to be okay." It had been almost sixteen years since he had heard that voice, but Ponyboy would have known it anywhere and thought wearily how cruel the world was, to punish him in such a way.

He flickered his eyes opened and were met with the smiling brown eyes of his brother, his so long dead brother. The racing of his heart stopped and Ponyboy could not be sure if it was from the withdrawal or at the ache of seeing his brother once more.

"Soda," he croaked voice raw and cracked.

Sodapop smiled warmly, looking as young and carefree as he had in the old days, before Vietnam, before everything had gone so wrong. "Got yourself into a little trouble here, aint you Ponyboy?"

Ponyboy moaned, tears falling down his face. "I screwed up Soda. You mad at me?" Surely Soda had to be mad at the wreck he had made of his life.

Sodapop grabbed Ponyboy's hand. "Awe Pony, I aint mad," he pushed back Ponyboy's hair. "A little disappointed maybe, but not mad." Ponyboy let out a dry sob, suddenly feeling fourteen again and longing for the comfort of his older brother.

Soda grinned at him and it seemed to Ponyboy that the room shined around him like a halo. He seemed so much more than a Greek god come to earth, that just by his very presence, the aches he had been feeling were dulled.

"I just hate to see you hurting kid, acting like you've been, drinking all the time… That aint you."

Ponyboy bit his lower lip. If Soda had seen, had Maggie? He couldn't stand the thought. Soda, just as he always had, seemed to know just what he was thinking because he have a soft, sad sort of smile.

"You and Cherry make beautiful babies. That little girl of yours loves you, something awful you know."

Ponyboy's breath hitched. Maggie, his sweet little Maggie; how could she not hate what he had become? Soda grabbed his shoulder. "She just wants you to be happy, we all do."

Ponyboy's stomach flip-flopped. "I don't think I even know how to be anymore."

Soda's grin softened. "You'll figure it out honey, just give it time. You're a pretty smart guy."

A smart guy who never seemed to cause his family and friends anything but pain, who- just like Darry always said- could not use his head…

Sodapop leaned back on the edge of the bed so that their heads were side by side. "Besides, you got the new baby to look forward to. I have it on authority that you buddy, are a wonderful daddy."

Ponyboy's heart lurched. Feelings of guilty, shame and loss overwhelmed him. "Don't think I know how to do that anymore either."

"You'll figure that one out too, believe me." Soda's voice was softer this time, his touch fading. Ponyboy let out a gasp. His brother was becoming less visible. Ponyboy felt sick. He couldn't lose him, not again.

"Don't go," he begged.

Soda laughed and let off another of his movie star grins. 'Shoot kid, you ought to know better than that. I aint never left, not for a second." He poked Ponyboy in the chest, right where is heart lay. "Just can't see me is all." His brother squeezed his shoulder one more time and just as quickly as he had come, Sodapop was gone.

When Ponyboy awoke the next morning, although sheens of sweat still lined his forehead, he felt better than had in days; except of course, his heart ached. He couldn't decide if his brother's visit had been just a dream or one of those hallucinations, Steve warned him about. Either way, it seemed cruel to him that his mind could play such devious tricks on him. The only thing crueler would have been the site of his little, healthy and whole once more. He didn't think he could stand that.

When Darry, Steve and even old Two-Bit came the next week Ponyboy longed to tell them what had happened but is tongue could not form the words. They wouldn't have believed him anyways. So he kept quiet, even when Darry pressed Soda's dog tags into the palms of his hands, curling his fingers around the chain. "To keep strong," Darry had said.

"You'll figure it out honey, "Soda had said. Ponyboy felt his adam's apple bob and he gulped. He hoped they both were right.


	10. Ch 9

Disclaimer- I do not own The Outsiders

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we-

Of many far wiser than we-

And neither the angels in heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee- Edgar Allen Poe

It was the first time she had come home to Tulsa since Maggie had died. The airport was crowded with people milling and moving around everywhere she turned. Her stomach lurched as she webbled and wobbled. Sherry felt suddenly tired and she wondered if this had been a bad idea after all. She closed her eyes and exhaled. It was too late now.

She looked around for a payphone, not wanting to simply spring herself on her husband by showing up at Steve or Darry's in a cab. She could not even recall the name of the street Steve lived on, Ponyboy always sent the letters with no return address. Sherry rummaged through her purse for her address book and then walked towards the only empty payphone near the terminal.

She stuck a few coins into the slot wondering who she should call. She could call her folks, but they hadn't talked since Maggie died, choosing to ignore her like when she had married Ponyboy, as if she were to blame for her own daughter's death. Maybe she was.. Sherry shook off the thought and rummaged through the address book. She turned to the third page. and then dialed 918-573-4892 and waited. The phone rang, once, twice, three times. Sherry drummed her fingers against the silver of the small, metal phone cubical. Maybe he wasn't home yet, maybe...

"Howdy, Mathews residence. how can I be helping you today."

Sherry stifled a laugh. Somethings, at least, would never change.

"Keith, it's me Sherry..."

"Sherry?" he sounded shocked. 'Are you okay?" though he refused to talk to Ponyboy over much of the past two years, more out of concern than anger, he had kept in constant contact with her. He was always calling her, to check on the both of them, full of advice, just as Darry had been.

"I'm gonna ring the kid's neck, acting that way. You ought to take Darry's advice and leave him awhile, snap him to his senses. He ain't ever gonna get his life together if we keep coddling him. You got to think of yourself..."

Sherry winced as the baby kicked her in the side. "I'm fine. I'm actually at the airport..."

'Don't tell me you got yourself on a plane, Sherry you got be what, seven months along..." He sounded concerned and incredulous. She smiled. He'd always been a good friend.

"Steve said Ponyboy's having his six months. I wanna be there. I thought..." She paused. What exactly had she been thinking? She'd just show up and he'd wanna come home with her, just drop everything and things would be back to normal again. She bit her lip.

Keith laughed. "You thought you'd surprise him. Kid's going to be in for a shock that's for sure." He paused for a moment and returned to talking, this time much more serious. "The kid misses you something awful. You should see him, moping around like a little puppy."

Sherry removed her hands from the cubicle and fiddled with her hair. "he could have come home anytime. it's not like i told him to leave."

"Na," Keith drawled, "but you left, same thing. He's so afraid of hurting you again. that he'd rather keep his distance. Won't say it of course , you know how stubborn he can be, being a Curtis and all, but I'd bet anything that's what it is. Kid needs a good swift kick in the pants."

Sherry laughed inspite of herself. "I suppose you also think i'm just the one to do it to."

'Well," Keith said amused, "you know what they say about red-heads.." Sherry felt her face flush with warmth. yep, same old Keith.

"I'm aware," she said. Behind her a well dressed man cleared his throat. Sherry held out one finger, just a minute more. 'Listen Keith, I've got to go. Do you think you can pick me up. I'm at Tulsa International, near terminal eight."

"Sure thing, just let me get Jason to watch Kimmy, if I can get him away from the boob tube, and I'll be right there."

"Thanks Keith, you're the best.'

"Aw shucks, you're making me blush."

Sherry rolled her eyes. 'Alright, I'll see you in a few then," she said, hanging up and heading for the bathroom and then towards the exit.

She sighed as she walked to the outside entrance, nothing in hand except the purse on her shoulder. Her back and feet ached something fierce and she found she needed to pee again. her stomach rumbled with hunger. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, hoping that Keith would soon be there. If he didn't, she might found herself reboarding the plane to go right back home again.

Before she could have a chance to turn around, a car horn beeped and she jumped. The black Camaro screeched to a halt and Keith Mathews stepped out, grinning. Tall and a little stockier than he had been the last time she had seen him, he still had his famous side burns, though his hair had begun to recede, and sported a rather auburn mustache. He grinned and drew Sherry into a warm hug.

'umph."

He sat her down. "Geeze, you've put on weight. You'd think you were pregnant or something." She didn't know whether to smack him or laugh.

"You're a riot, you know that?" Sherry asked. "I don't see how Kathy puts up with you."

Keith grinned and helped her into the car. "It must be my glowing personality and rugged good looks."

Sherry rolled her eyes. "Must be."

Keith got in the car and they drove off, leaving the airport behind them.

"Kid really does miss you," he said as they pulled up to a red light near the edge of the city limits. "He's never been so good at saying these things but I can tell. " Sherry sighed. her gut wrenched and she was not sure if it was because of the baby or the fact that she too, missed her husband terribly.

Keith pulled off when the light turned green and the engine roared. He strummed the steering wheel. "he is doing better these days though. Ain't touched a drink and he put some weight on. You know Judy and Darry. Biggest pair of mother hens I ever saw in my life. Never can leave their house hungry." He said. Of course he forgot to mention that he had been eating them out of house and home himself for the past twenty years, whenever he came round to visit.

'And it's a good thing too," he continued. 'You know Steve ain't never been able to cook and if you don't tell Ponyboy to eat anything but chocolate..."

"He won't..." Sherry finished. her husband could eat like an actual horse for days on end and then get so wrapped up in whatever he was doing that he would forget about getting any food to eat, except for the chocolate candy he kept at his desk. It had been worse the past two years. He didn't even bother with the chocolate and among many other things, that was what had worried her.

Keith laughed. 'yep. You know good old Sodapop used to say if they made a chocolate cigarette, the kid would have it made. Shame he ain't kicked that habit too." The baby kicked and the baby lurched before she could respond to what Keith had said. She felt green.

"You okay Sherry?" he asked, and she nodded. Even though she wasn't. Everything below hurt like it was on fire.

"I'm fine," she said wearily. "I'm just a little tired from the flight is all," she lied.

"You sure you're okay to go to the meeting tonight?'

Sherry nodded, though in reality she was not all too sure.

She waited in the back of the meeting hall, hidden from view from her husband and his friends. Only Keith knew she was there and he wasn't telling.

"I want it to be a surprise," She told Keith, as he dropped her off early, albeit reluctantly. "If he sees me too soon, he might bolt. you know he would. I don't want that to happen. I don't want to scare him off.

Keith ran a hand through his thinning hair. He grimaced. "I don't know Sherry, it don't seem right. You not feeling good and all..."

She forced a smile. "It'll be fine. It's just for a couple of hours or so. I'll go across the street and get a snack or something. I'm a grown woman, I think I'm pretty capable of taking care of myself."

He gritted his teeth. "Well if you're sure."

Sherry nodded. "I am." She gave him a quick hug. "Now shoo, before anyone suspects."

"Alright.."

She waved Keith off. Her stomach clenched again, cramping and pulling. Sherry bit her lips. It was nothing, she told herself. Just nerves, or false labour pains. She'd had them enough with Maggie. It was fine things were fine, just fine...

The first three members of the AA had given their speeches. Sherry waited with baited breath, every orifice of her body riving in agony, her heart fluttering. She wondered what she would feel when he finally hit the stage, if she was this nervous now.

There was not much time to think about though, because there was, parting though the crowd and stepping to the podium. Keith was right; he had put on some weight. His shaggy hair was no longer dull and lifeless, and it had been cut. His clothes were neat and pressed. All he wore was a pair of blue jeans, a white t- shirt and a man's dress jacket, but he looked so handsome then; even with his faded running shoes on.

Sherry felt her throat go dry. This was the man she had married, handsome and healthy and whole." She lowered her gaze, hoping he didn't see her as he made it to the podem. He fiddled with the mike and Sherry was sure his palms were sweating. He never did like speaking in front of crowds...

The mike echoed and she winced.

'Um, hi," her husband said, "My name is Ponyboy..."

There was a roar of laughter and Sherry watched her husband grimace. She smiled.

'What's your name?"

"Ponyboy Curtis" his face flushed.

"That's an original and lovely name." Sherry replied.

He seemed to perk up then, grinning. "My dad was an original person," he said smugly, "I've got a brother named Sodapop. it even says so on his birth certificate."

The laughter died down and he continued. "My name's Ponyboy Curtis and I'm an alcoholic." he paused and Sherry could tell, he was nervous."Yesterday marks six months sober for me."

The room filled with clapping. Sherry watched as her husband's cheeks turned red. She smiled. proud of him, but it turned to a grimace when she felt the pains again. Even so, she watched as he continued. They would pass, they always did with Maggie.

"I had my first drink when I was thirteen, got a little drunk and decided ironically enough, that I didn't much like it. go figure." he licked his lips. "That was just after my folks were killed in a car wreck. Guess you could say death tends to follow me around. Lost my best friend not long after that and then my brother in Nam. things got pretty rough but I never really hit the bottle until about two and half years ago."

He clutched the podium and Sherry felt her eyes water. She knew what was coming. her husband closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sherry could see the tears pulling.

"My wife and I, we," his hands and shoulders were shaking. 'we lost our little girl, Maggie." his breath hitched. "Meningitis," he said, "She was only four. We left her with a sitter while we went on business and we got this call. She was in the hospital. Not much longer and she was gone. My little girl..."

He let out another shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. Sherry could tell he was crying, she was too.

"After that, everything seemed to go to hell. I just couldn't cope. That bottle started looking pretty good and soon I was spending more time with the bottle than with my wife. "Some days, I couldn't even take care of myself., couldn't get out of bed. Sherry did everything for me and I treated her like crap, yelled at her, beat her once." He shuddered.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for that," he said, "wouldn't blame her if she didn't either."

Sherry closed her eyes and clenched her fist. she took a deep breath, trying to will away the pain. Of course she forgave him.

"I guess you can say shit hit the fan about six months ago. She told me she was pregnant and I just couldn't deal. I said some pretty awful things to her, ran out and got trashed. I came home and we fought. I shoved her a little harder than I meant too. She left me and it was probably the smartest thing she ever did. Gave me time to think. When she came home a few days later I'd called a buddy of mine. He checked me into a center here and I haven't seen her since."

Sherry closed her eyes and listened as he went on.

"Getting sober again was the hardest thing I've ever done and I still don't know if I can keep it up. At first, all I could think about was how much i wanted another drink. Then maybe I wouldn't have to think about what a shitty husband I was or how I wasn't sure I even wanted to be a dad again or if I even knew how. I'm still not..."

Sherry felt her heart lurch.

"My friend, the one that died. His dad was an alcoholic too. Used to beat him with a two by four, yell and scream at him, make him feel less than worthless. Another friend, his dad was one too. Never had a kind word to say, kept throwing him out. Always was apologizing for the shitty way he treat'em. Nobody deserves that. And then with Maggie... I don't know if I'll ever be ready to be a dad again, or a husband. Don't even know if I should even get that chance..."

He sighed. "but I wanted to get sober for them... For my wife and the baby, but especially for my little girl. I hate to think of her looking down on me and wondering what happened to daddy. Why is he such a screw up? You know..."

Ponyboy shuddered again and left the podium. the room burst with applause. Sherry could see Darry and the rest of the adult members of their much blended family upfront, clapping wildly and she smiled, waiting for the meeting to end so she could go up and see him, knowing Keith would be distracting the rest of them.

She waited, in baited breath, loins stills on fire, and goosebumps crawling up and down her spine. Finally, the meeting was over. People began to disperse, to mingle and talk in their own little groups.

Sherry eased up from her chair, nearly collapsing again from the effort and headed toward the exit, where she knew her husband would be headed for a smoke.

And sure enough, that's where he was. He was fumbling for a packet that she could see hanging out of his back jeans pocket. Sherry licked her lips. It was now or never.

"Ponyboy!" she called. He whipped around, frozen. His face pailed and he dropped the pack of cigarettes to the ground. His eyes scanned her up and down in disbelief, stopping to stare at her swollen belly. His finger twitched and he gulped.

"Sherry..."

She forced a smile through the pain. "Hey handsome."

"What, what are.. I mean." He sounded completely flustered.

"Don't be mad," she begged, "Steve told me, i guess he's just so proud of you, you know. He wanted me to know and I've missed you so much." Hot tears fell down her cheek. "And I just had to come.. I.." Now it would seem that she was flustered.

Neither moved for a second then Ponyboy lowered his gaze. 'I, you shouldn't have come." He said flatly.

Sherry stepped forward, clutching her pregnant belly. She bit her lip. "I know," she laughed sadly for fear if she didn't she would sob. Maybe it came out that way anyway. She really didn't care. "but I'd never forgive myself if I didn't. I miss you."

His shoulders shook but he didn't say a word.

She tilted her head, letting out a sob. "a letter with some cash now and then don't cut it. it's too quiet without you. Come home Pony just come home."

"Sherry I..." he never got to finish that sentence.

Sherry yelped as another pain spasm hit her body, more terrible than before. She could barely breathe and her pants were thick with blood. The room span and she felt dizzy. She fell to the floor.

"Sherry, Sherry." her husband called, rushing to her side. Sherry felt suddenly cold, the room span faster and faster as the pain came on faster and faster. She found it hard to breathe as cold terror hit her.

Ponyboy grabbed her hand. 'Sherry," he called. "Cherry..." he said finally, using the old nickname, but she could no longer hear him as the room went dark and she passed out. The room grew still and silent as everyone turned to see what had happened. You might have heard a pin drop were it not for one man's frantic screams. "Not again."


	11. Ch 10

Death lies on her, like an untimely frost  
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field- William Shakespeare

Ponyboy sat in the pink cushioned waiting room chair, knee bouncing up and down, biting down on the fingertips of his right hand, left hand squeezing the armrest so tight, it might very well break. His jacket had been taken off, to cushion his wife's head as she passed out and he had left it at the community center. His shirt and pants were stained with dried blood. There had been so much blood.

The clocked ticked on the wall like the ticking of a bomb, as if every second he went with out answers he came closer to explosion. He was proud of being sober, it was the first right thing he had done in so long, but right about now he would have given just about anything for a drink.

Darry and his wife Judy sat on either side of him. Judy reached out and pried his hand from his mouth. "You'll bite your hand off." she said somberly. Darry, who although he had become a lot better at communicating with his brother, was never one for a lot of words, and for that Ponyboy was for once, grateful.

He wasn't even sure how to begin to describe what he was feeling now. He'd done a lot of thinking, while getting himself sober and he honestly thought keeping his distance from his wife was the best thing he could have done. It wasn't because he didn't love her or want to be with her. On the contrary, he was as crazy for her as he had always been, but he had hurt her too much. Sherry didn't deserve that. She had spent all her free time taking care of him when he was too drunk to even undress himself or had sunk into a depression so deep he couldn't get out of bed. She had been the target for a brunt of his anger, the ire filled words that he had used to rip her to shreds, the time he beat her, the times he had almost done so again. She deserved a lot more than that and he could not live with himself if he ever did that to her again.

Then there was the child, the catalyst for all that had occurred in the past six months. He couldn't begin to know how he felt about it. There was the anger and the guilt because somehow loving this child felt like he was trying to replace Maggie in his life, something he could never force himself to do; just to pack away her things and pretend she had never existed. Then there was the uncertainty. Could he function as a father again, was as it unfair to the child to have someone like him as a dad as it was for Sherry to have him for a husband? He couldn't bare it if he had turned to Johnny or Steve's dads. Better to be like Two-Bit's and be out of his kid's life forever, at least he would send the kid some money every now and then. It all made him unsure if he even wanted the kid but he didn't want the baby to die. Not the baby and certainly not Sherry. Maybe that was what scared him most, learning to love someone again, only to lose them.

Steve and Two-Bit, who everyone else called by his real name now, were there too, with Two-Bit's wife. He wanted to throttle the later never would have been here if it wasn't for them. She would have been home, safe and unstressed.

"Exactly kid, she would have been home." Steve grunted when he had confronted about it in the hospital parking lot. "Think about, she would have been home, by herself, unable to get to the phone. Because she was here we were able to get her to the hospital now instead of later.."

Steve had a point of course, but Ponyboy still could not get it out his head that she shouldn't have been flying like that. She shouldn't have been doing anything that might get herself worked up. So with nobody else to blame, except for perhaps himself, he turned his anger outward to his two best friends.

He moved his hand back from his lap and back to his mouth, looking at the clock. He bit down hard on his fingertips and winced as he nicked the skin. It had been two hours, two hours without word on Sherry or the baby.

He remembered all too well the feeling of waiting for news only to have nothing but sorrow awaiting when it came. Waiting to hear about Maggie when the surgery to remove her leg only to learn that it had been for nothing, she was going to die anyways, to hear about Johnny, only to feel sick when finally he did. Would the same thing be happening again? Would there be no more happy memories with his wife, no chance at life for his unborn child? It seemed, at times like these, that the world had it our for him.

Everytime he managed to get on his feet again from one tragedy, another seemed to followed in it's wake and he hated it. He bowed his head into his hands and took a deep breath. His breath shuddered and hot tears fell. It was all unfair, so unfair.

Darry put a hand on his back. He didn't speak for a moment, just laid it there. "Don't be thinking the worst Ponyboy. I know things don't always turn out right for us but it doesn't mean this won't."

Ponyboy lifted his head and stared at his brother. Since when was his brother the optimist? Darry thought as things logically, in cold hard facts. He didn't carry false hope. Better to be prepared for the worst before it happens. Otherwise life will break you.

"Shove it, this is a hospital, not some stupid football game. People come here to die, end of story." He balled his hands into fists and punched the wall. People came to the hospital to die...

Her body stilled just as he finished the last line of the story, skin cooling. Machines beeped all around him and suddenly the room filled with nurses and doctors, pushing him and Sherry away from the daughter. Time slowed to a halt and he could not breath. "Please," he begged, "no, no..."

Sherry leaned into his shoulder, sobbing and shaking. He felt his own legs shivering. The machines went silent and the doctor turned around and shook his head. Ponyboy felt his heart break. If sixteen years was not near enough to live, what was four? His baby girl, beautiful little baby girl.

"I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, like I said, there was nothing more to be done."

Sherry let out a harsh cry and it was all Ponyboy could do to hold his wife upright and not punch the square in the jaw. "The hell you couldn't," he said, "we put a man on the moon but you can't save one little girl? How can you stand there and say there was nothing you could do?"

"I'm sorry," the doctor said, "we can cure a lot these days. Some people do survive but your daughter was very young and the infection was just too much. I'm sorry."

Sherry looked up at him, misty eyed. She pulled away, leaning on the bed looking at their daughter. He stared at the doctor, and the nurses, useless all of them. "Get out." he said gruffly.

"Mr. Curtis..."

"I said get out!"

The doctor nodded and motioned to the rest of the medical staff. "Let's give them some time along." he turned to Ponyboy. "Please be aware that she is still contagious." He exited the room and Ponyboy thought wildly that he could care less if his daughter was contagious or not. It would not be so bad, dying, if he could just have her back again.

She looked so small there in that bed, as if she were merely sleeping. Sherry grabbed his hand and together they walked to the side of the bed and sat next to their daughter. He leaned down and kissed her little cheek, as if like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, a kiss was all that was needed to wake her from the dead.

He held her hand in his and rubbed her palm with his thumb, tears flowing freely"Please come back Maggie," he said, voice cracking,"Mommy and Daddy love you. We want you here with us. Please don't be gone"

"Please don't be gone," he muttered as Darry put a hand on his shoulder and eased him back into the cushioned chair. He smiled grimly.

Two-Bit came over and kneeled at his feet. He ran a hand through his rusty colored hair. "Shoot kid, you ought to know better than that. Sherry's one tough 's not about to give up without a fight, especially now that you've come to your senses."

Ponyboy licked his lips. His friend was right of course, Sherry had to be just about the toughest woman he knew and he had no idea what he would ever do without her. The past six months had been hard enough. There had been comfort, knowing that he had left her for her own good, knowing that she was only a phone call away when he missed her so bad it hurt. There would be no comfort if she died. He loved her too much for that.

He loved everything about her. He loved the way her red hair cascaded down to the small of her back in long, thick waves and always smelled of lavender. He loved the feeling of her head on his chest, their arms intertwined with one another. He especially loved holding her, pressed against him when he danced, the way she would make jokes in his ear about how clumsy he was, anything to make him laugh. He even loved the way she put up with him these past few years, loved him despite the fact that he had been spiteful and mean, unable to take care of himself or her. She was everything, just everything to him and he could not stand the thought of her simply being gone, just gone forever. That would be the end of him and no amount of rehab would change that.

He looked at the clock: TICK TOCK TICK TOCK... like the beating of his breaking heart. He sighed and the double doors opened. A doctor appeared, looking rather frazzled in his blue scrubs. He lifted his face mask down and looked around the room.

"Family of Sherry Curtis," he called.

Ponyboy's beat wildly in his chest and he had to hold onto his brother just to stand. "I'm Darrel Curtis," Darry said. He nodded to his brother. "This is my brother Ponyboy, Sherry's husband."

The doctor nodded. "I take it this is the rest of the extended family?" Ponyboy lifted his head.

"Yes," he said, a lump forming in his throat. "My wife, how is she.."

"Would you rather we talk in private?" the doctor asked, looking around the room. Alone? That couldn't be good, could it?

Ponyboy looked up at Darry, suddenly feeling like a little kid again, anything but tough and cool. He remembered thinking once that you did not cry in front of Darry unless you were hurting like Johnny had the time the Socs had beat him in the old vacant lot. Well boy was he hurting now.

"Stay," he begged. Darry nodded and tilted his head so that Steve, Kathy and Judy would come there way.

"How is Sherry doing Doc?" Steve asked for Ponyboy who could barely speak for fear of vomiting.

The doctor pushed his hair net off and ran his hands through greying locks. His mouth twitched in corner as if he was thinking of what to say. " There was a tear in her placental, resulting in preterm labor. We had to operate quickly, there was a lot of hemorrhaging..."

There was... Ponyboy felt faint.

"And" Darry asked, grabbing his wife's hand.

"We were able to staunch the bleeding and deliver the baby. Sherry is currently in ICU in critical but stable condition. There is some concern about clotting and we are monitoring but barring any further complications, I highly believe she will live."

Ponyboy's breath hitched. "She's gonna be okay?" he asked, barely daring to hope.

The doctor nodded his head. "With the proper rest and relaxation, I would say so yes." Ponyboy let out a shuddering breath and placed his hand on his chest. She wasn't dead, she wasn't dead...

Judy lifted her head. "And the baby?" she asked, teetering on her toes.

Ponyboy bit his lip. He had given the child very little thought in comparison with his wife. This child, who he hadn't began to know how to want, it would seem almost karmic for it to die, a reward for his sins and selfishness. Life was a cruel enough that way, to take both children from him like it had taken both parents in one fell swoop.

"The baby was wrapped tight in the umbilical cord..."

"And let me guess," Ponyboy thought wearily, "there was nothing you could do.."

"but we think he'll live."

"Huh?" Ponyboy asked, falling out of his daze.

"I said we were able to unwrap the cord and get him some oxygen. He will have to be heavily monitored and his temp and breathing regulated. He's a small little guy but barring infection, it looks promising. I can't promise no damage was done but..."

"The baby's alive," Ponyboy asked interrupting the doctor.

"Yes," the doctor said with a nod. "He's alive."

"And it's a boy?" Ponyboy asked giving a relieved laugh.

"Yes, 3.1 pounds and 15.3 inches, ten fingers, ten toes. And if I say so myself, he and your wife most have quite the guardian angel."

Two-Bit patted Ponyboy on the shoulder. "More like a fleet of angels, eh Ponyboy."

Ponyboy bit his lip, thinking of that night in rehab, when he had seen Sodapop. The hallucination had seemed so real and afterwards he had no longer felt ill. Could it have been just a coincidence? He didn't know.

"I.. I guess so.": He answered quietly. Finally he looked up at the doctor. "Can I, that is can I see my wife?"

The doctor nodded. "She's a bit groggy. I suggest a small visit. She needs her rest."

Ponyboy nodded. "I won't be long." he said and he didn't plan on being there long at all just so long as he knew Sherry was going to be okay. That was all that mattered.

"Alright then, follow me"

The ICU was full of tiny glass cubicles with beeping monitors and the eerie smell of sterilizer. The air was cold and lonely. Darry placed a hand on his shoulder and Ponyboy jumped. "Easy kid," he said, "This isn't going to be like last time. She's going to be just fine."

Ponyboy nodded nervously and stuck his sweaty hands into his pockets. What was he going to say to Sherry when he saw her. "Hey sweetheart. Sorry I'm a complete jerk and that nearly killed you by knocking you up when I was sloshed." Oh yes, that would go over well.

Darry squeezed the shoulder as the doctor lead them to cubicle and said "one at a time." He gave Ponyboy a push.

"Go on little buddy," he said, "it's you she'll want to see." Ponyboy was not so sure. If he were in her place he would want to see Darry or Steve or even Two-Bit, the people who had really been there for her over the past two and a half years. He wouldn't want anything to with himself.

Darry shoved him on again and Ponyboy had no choice but to enter his wife's hospital room. He looked around.

Sherry was laying on top of the bed, a thin white, hospital cover laying across her chest. An IV dripping blood and another with some kind of medicine he did not recognize was attached to her right arm. A pair of oxygen tubes went up either nostril, helping her to breathe. There were deep bags and dark circles under her closed eyes and her skin was so pale that her matted, red hair stood at even brighter than he was used to, framing her face in a halo of fiery light.

He shifted the weight from right foot to left, unsure if he should move forwards, towards his wife, or head for the door and run far away. After all, she'd be better off without him.

Before Ponyboy could make a decision, Sherry's eyes fluttered open and she let out a shaky, tired breath."Um," she moaned, "Ponyboy, is that you?" her voice sounded weak and horse.

Ponyboy licked his lips and stepped toward her. "Hey," he said unsteadily.

She smiled and her green eyes lit up the room, making him wonder why he could have ever hated people with those eyes, those beautiful green eyes. "Hey yourself," she answered weekly, "I missed you."

Ponyboy reached out his hand to grab her left hand in his but quickly withdrew, afraid that any touch of his might hurt her further, after all hadn't it done enough damage to her over the years. Sherry's smile softened and she reached out for the hand, holding it in hers. He noted that her hands, usually so warm, felt cold within his.

Her eyes fluttered. "The baby?" she asked softly.

"He's really small and can't breath too good right now but Doc says he's going to be fine."

Sherry sighed in relief and gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm glad," she said yawning. "Have you seen him yet?"

Ponyboy shook his head. He couldn't tell her, tell her how afraid he was to see his own son. He wanted to love that baby, to hold him but it wouldn't be fair to get attached and something go wrong, better to walk away now. They would be fine, Sherry and the baby. She could find him a good and respectable father, someone who didn't bring chaos and tragedy everywhere he went. That would make him happy, knowing they had that.

Sherry closed her eyes for a minute. "Well, you should. Poor things got to be scared to death. You go and tell him his mommy'll be there," she yawned, "soon."

She was asking, not telling, him to do this but somehow, though it went against his better judgement, he could not deny her this. It was the least he could do for all the trouble he had caused her.

"Alright," he said, "I'll go now."

Sherry yawned again. "Good," she said, "I'm going to get some sleep, be here when I wake up."

Ponyboy leaned down and kissed her hand. "I promise," he said, not knowing if he was lying or not. He had never been sure if he should believe his own lies or not, why should this one be any different.

Sherry smiled again and was fast asleep, her hand drifting out of his. Ponyboy looked to the door and he knew he had no choice. He would have to see his child.


	12. Ch 11

"People can be more forgiving than you can imagine. But you have to forgive yourself. Let go of what's bitter and move on."- Bill Cosby

The NICU had to be one of the saddest places he had ever been. Ponyboy had spent more than his fair share of time in hospital waiting rooms, ICUs, morgues... He'd lost so many people in rooms like these, parents, friends, his little girl. Now his son was here too. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to see him, the boy he knew who would grow up to know what a screw up his father was. It wouldn't be fair to either one of them, especially if the doctor was wrong and things went south. He could not handle seeing another child wasting away in the ICU. Once was cruel enough.

He looked through the viewing glass window, parents dressed in smocks and masks, bent over praying and crying over incubators with too small babies, attached to tubes and wires. Ponyboy wondered morbidly which of those poor kids was his and shuddered. This was not the kind of world children were supposed to be born in to certainly not his child. After all, even his little Maggie had been given better. She started life on the right enough track, got to live and breath on her own from birth until the day she died. She'd had all the hope in the world for a bright and beautiful future. if that had been taken from her, what did these poor kids have to look forward to?

The door to the NICU swished open and a nurse, dressed in blue scrubs walked out. She turned to look at him. "Can I help you?" she asked.

He licked his dry lips. He wanted to say no, to run away and never look back. He wanted to head for the hills but his chest ached and he remembered the look on his wife's face when she had asked him to come here. Sherry didn't beg, not even when he had treated her like shit. It wasn't her style; but she had practically begged him then. After all he had put her through.

Sherry closed her eyes for a minute. "Well, you should. Poor things got to be scared to death. You go and tell him his mommy'll be there," she yawned, "soon."

"My son," he said, "I," he ran his hand through his hair, "he's in here, just born." he let out a cough, feeling very on edge.

The nurse smiled at him. "Of course, let's get you scrubbed up and then I'll take you to your son. Can you give me his name?"

They had never even talked about a name, Sherry and him. Maggie's they had known almost right away. Margaret, named after his mother, Sherry's idea. He'd been so hands off, so distant for this pregnancy that he had no idea what name she had in mind for their son, if any thought was given to it at all.

"We haven't come up with a name yet, last name should be Curtis." He said nervously, wondering if Sherry would want her maiden name back when he left.

The nurse smiled up at him. Of course, I understand. This must all be very trying for you. Follow me and we'll go see your son." His son...

Ponyboy nodded his head and followed the nurse into the NICU, so different from the world his daughter had been greeted with at birth, but so very like the one she had died in.

Sherry smiled wearily as he entered the room. Her hair was matted with sweat and she looked exhausted. Even so, she was glowing, radiating joy and contentment, holding a small pink bundle in her arms.

"Hey daddy," she said, shifting positions so he could get a better look at his brand new daughter. "Someone wants to meet you."

He stepped forward, a smile growing wider on his face as he got a look at his little girl. her tiny nose was scrunched up and she let out a tiny yawn. Her face was red and scrunched and little red curls had already formed around her face.

He sat on the edge of the bed and Sherry placed their daughter in his arms. He laughed as she cooed, holding his finger in her hand. "Seven pounds, eight ounces, ten fingers and ten toes. She's a beauty, isn't she?" She asked.

Ponyboy could only nod, mesmerized by the tiny creature in his arms, fragile but healthy. She had to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Hello Darling, I'm your daddy. It's nice to finally meet you."

The joy he felt for Maggie's birth just wasn't there for this child. He felt so weary, having nearly lost both Sherry and the boy. Karma was a bitch. He said he didn't want the baby and the universe seemed bound and determined to make sure he got that wish. Feelings of guilt and uncertainty raged on within him as he scrubbed up and entered the NICU.

The nurse led him to an incubator in the far corner of the room. "Here he is, poor little guy's had a rough day." She left them alone together, Ponyboy and his son. His legs trembled and he could barely stand.

There were all kind of wires in the incubator, an IV sending what looked like some kind of food, oxygen tubes and glory, the kid was small. The doctor said he weighed barely three pounds, but he looked so much tinier, just like one of the dolls gathering dust on Maggie's bedroom shelf. Maybe it was all the tubes and wires.

The baby let out a cry and Ponyboy was startled. He didn't know premature babies could do that. Poor little guy...

"You can touch him if you want, it won't hurt him." Ponyboy whirled around. It was the nurse again. "You won't hurt him." she said, getting closer. She pointed to a little porthole on the side of the incubator. "Your hands are clean enough. Poor little guy's scared to death. It really helps to have some interaction."

Ponyboy looked at his son. He seemed so helpless in that incubator, as if he could break at any minute. It reminded him eerily of his daughter. He let out a shuddering breath, heart fluttering. His hand trembled as he reached into the incubator and caressed his son's hand with his index finger. Tiny fingers grasped around his and hot tears fell down Ponyboy's face.

The nurse went away again, leaving the two completely alone with each other once more.

Ponyboy's lips trembled. He remembered Maggie doing that as a baby, holding him enthralled to her as if to say "Don't go."

He forced a smile, reaching in his other hand to touch the top of his son's bald head. He stopped crying immediately as if his father's touch was magic. "Hey kiddo," Ponyboy said shakily. "I'm your daddy,. kind of a lousy one, I'm afraid, but don't worry, I'm gonna make sure your mama can find you a better one. Ya'll deserve that."

"Now don't tell me you're planning on up and leaving again." Ponyboy jumped startled. Two-Bit was right behind him, dressed in the same yellow smock and white mask he was.

"When'd you get in here?"

Two-Bit grinned. "Just told the nurse I had to see my little nephew, I am family after all; taught you everything you know kid." His face grew stony then. "But never taught you a thing about leaving, ain't none of us taught you that."

Ponyboy removed his hands from his son's incubator and the baby let out a cry. Ponyboy turned around. He licked his lips and stared up at his long time friend, unsure how to respond. Couldn't Two-Bit see it was for the best, his leaving? Sherry would never have to worry about being yelled out or hit, or looking after a husband who could barely function half the time because he was so depressed again. His son would never have to worry about having a father who did not know how to begin to care for him because that part had died with his older sister. He would never be beaten or thrown out of the house like Steve or Johnny. And he, Ponyboy, would never have to worry about being there when the bottom dropped out, like it always did.

"No," he finally said, bending his head to stare at the ground, "you didn't."

"Then why on earth would you even talk like that? Don't tell me you're going to be like my old man and leave Sherry and this little guy," he tilted his head toward the incubator, "out to dry. What do you think Darry's going to have to say about that?"

His ears felt hot and Ponyboy felt his frustration start to boil over. This was his family, his choice to make. It wasn't Darry's and it certainly wasn't Two-Bit's. Besides, Darry had been the one to tell Sherry to leave him in the first place.

"Nothing," he said a little too loudly, causing everyone to look up. "It's not any of his damn business what I do and it's not yours either."

"The hell it ain't." Two-Bit retorted.

The nurse from earlier started heading over, arms crossed.

Two-Bit roughly grabbed Ponyboy's arm and nodded toward the exit. "Come on," he said, you and I need to have a little talk kid."

Ponyboy jerked away. He turned to look at his son, musing that this could be the last time he saw the poor kid. "Take care buddy," he thought longingly before hitching his hands into his jeans through the yellow smock he was wearing and staring at Two-Bit. "Fine," he said, let's go talk."

They ended up in an abandoned waiting room with a flickering overhead light. Ponyboy's hands trembled and he reached for a cigarette, lighting it before taking a long, deep drag. If he couldn't have a drink, and he sorely needed one, then at least there was this. He flicked the ashes into the black ashtray next to him and stared up at Two-Bit.

Two-Bit leaned forward, wringing his hands together. He sighed. Had the situation not been so serious. Ponyboy might have found it humorous to find his normally talkative friend without words. Right now though, it was annoying him. If Two-Bit was going to start preaching to him after that little outburst, he better start doing it.

"Alright," Ponyboy said, "you wanted to talk, so let's talk."

Two-Bit looked up and shook his head. "Okay kid, if that's how you want it, fine. Look, you know I love you like a brother..."

"Wouldn't have known it by the past few years." Ponyboy interrupted, immediately regretting it. He'd hit a sore spot and he knew it. Two-Bit stopped talking to him about six months after Maggie had died. They'd had a big fight about his becoming a drunk, screwing up everything and Ponyboy had said a few choice words about Two-Bit's own previous relationship with lady liquor. Then he'd told Two-Bit that if he was going to be such a hypocritical asshole then he really didn't care if he ever saw or spoke to him again, a wish Two-Bit had been more than happy to grant. It was only in the past six months that their friendship had begun to slowly come together again.

"Could say the same for you kid," Two-Bit said.

Ponyboy took another drag of his cigarette. "Your point being?" he asked.

Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "Kid, most of the time you got to be one of the best people I've ever met but sometimes I swear you are also one of the biggest idiots I've ever known. Do you really think Sherry would have come all this way if she wanted you to run off again? She came to bring you home and you're just going to leave her in a hospital bed after she nearly died giving birth to your son? How selfish can you get?"

Selfish, selfish? Selfishness had nothing to do with it."It's for the best," Ponyboy countered, "she'll see eventually. She's better off without me, they both are."

Two-Bit shook his head again. "You really are an idiot. You've been a louse for the past few years and you have screwed up a little but Sherry is crazy about you kid and I know you're just as nuts about her. I could tell from the moment you met that you were crazy for her, never saw you open your trap like that before then. You really think she'll be happy with you gone?"

"Eventually," Ponyboy retorted."They both will. It won't be long until I do something to screw everything up again. Who's to say I want hit Sherry again or fall off the wagon. What kind of home is that for a kid to grow up in?"

Two-Bit's face softened. "It won't be like that Ponyboy."

Ponyboy shook his head, snuffing out his cigarette in the tray beside him. "You can't know that," he said, "and I'd rather not take the chance. Sherry deserves so much better, the both do."

Two-Bit let out a loud, bitter laugh. "So you think the kid will thank you for that?" he asked, "cause he won't and neither will Sherry. Take it from somebody who knows. Neither one of them will. It doesn't matter why you are leaving. They'll spend the rest of their lives wondering why they weren't good enough for you, why you couldn't be bothered to stay. You say you love Sherry and want what's best for her and the kid but you don't seem to know the first thing about what that is."

Ponyboy looked down at the floor. He mulled over this. What if Two-Bit was right? His old man left when he was just a kid...

"Ponyboy," Two-Bit said hesitantly, "you wanna know something?"

Ponyboy looked up. "You remember when Darry hit you?" Remember it, how could he forget? It was etched into his memory as the start of one of the worst weeks in his life and he had been through so many of those.

"Yeah." Ponyboy replied flatly, "I remember."

Two-Bit sighed. "Before the fire, when you was still missing he and I had a little talk. He was thinking of putting you in a boys home once you came back. Said he couldn't live with himself if he ever hit you again. I told him about what you said at the movies, about thinking he didn't want you around. Now tell me something. If he had given you up, even if it was because he didn't want to ever worry about hurting you again, would you forgive him, or would you think it was because he honestly could less about you?"

Ponyboy mulled over this for a moment. That seemed so long ago now. He and Darry were much closer, the rift between them repaired. Darry had been his anchor through all the upheaval over the past 16 years, even as Ponyboy pushed him away. It seemed impossible now that he could have ever thought his brother did not care, but remembering the angry, bitter 14 year old he once was he knew the answer. No matter the reason, he would have felt betrayed and unloved. He would never have forgiven his brother for that.

He longed for another cigarette. Two-Bit had made his point. It didn't matter why he left. leaving was leaving and his family would always feel abandoned but perhaps abandoned was still better than the alternative. Darry had been harsh at times but the slap to the face had barley left a mark. He, on the other hand, had been completely horrible to Sherry and left more than his fair share of bruises on her body and soul. Better to let Sherry and the baby feel unloved then to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt. He was about to tell Two-Bit this when the door opened.

Steve walked in looking rather disheveled. "There you are," he said breathlessly. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Darry's with Sherry now. The girl's have gone home. It's getting late." he said.

Ponyboy sighed. "How is she?" he asked.

Steve shrugged. "Still out if it. Hasn't woken up yet. Keeps talking in her sleep though, something about turtledoves."

Turtledoves? Ponyboy froze. His lower lip trembled and he felt suddenly felt cold.

"Turtle Doves were my folk's favorites. Dad told me when I was a kid that they mate for life." He looked at heras he said it, feeling his face flush red.. "I hope we will like them, just like my folks were. You never saw two people so in love..." He meant it too.

Sherry smiled. She took his hand, "I have," she said, leaning in for a kiss. Their lips touched and he felt like he was floating. He brought her in close and snuggled his cheek into her long, wavy hair and she rested her head on her shoulders. Just like turtle doves...

A hot tear fell down Ponyboy's cheek. His heart raced and his stomach lurched. He did the only thing he could think to do. He bolted, ran from the waiting room, down the stairs to the lobby and out of the hospital, as if the devil himself were after him. Then, he kept on running.


	13. Ch 12

Disclaimer- I do not own The Outsiders

Sherry woke up feeling tired and heavy. Her lower abdomen cramped and ached. She groaned as her eyes flickered open, adjusting to the harsh white hospital light. The memory of what had happened the night before hit her and she looked widely around. 

He wasn't in the room with her. The chair by the window was empty and the only other chair in the room was occupied by her sister-in-law. Sherry groaned. Her husband was nowhere to be seen. She didn't know why she expected things to be any different. 

Her sister in law stirred, lifting her arms, back popping with an agonizing CRACK sound. She yawned and looked at Sherry. She grimaced. It seemed it didn't take Judy any longer than it took Sherry to notice the emptiness in the room. 

"Hey Sherry, how are you feeling?" 

Her lower body was on fire with pain and she felt tired and weary. The room felt empty without Ponyboy there, colder. She had vague memories of promises to return from the night before and she had been sure it wasn't a dream. 

Sherry forced a small smile. "Like I've been hit by a freight train," she said. 

Judy shook her head and leaned forward. "That's to be expected." she said, licking her lips, saying nothing else. 

Sherry looked around once more. Her stomach lurched. She winced, looking down. It was so much flatter than before. "The baby," she started in an almost half whisper. 

Judy grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly. Sherry had always liked Judy. She was exceptionally gentle and kind, the first person to go to for comfort. Ponyboy adored, her Sherry thought, absently. 

Judy squeezed her hand tighter. "He had a rough go of it during delivery and he's really tiny. I haven't seen him yet but the doctor's say they think he'll live." 

Tears came to her eyes. "A boy," Sherry asked, "it's a little boy?" 

Judy nodded. "a tough little one from the looks of it. He's going to be fine Sherry. We're not going to lose this one." 

Sherry choked back a sob. “…not going to lose this one." “And Ponyboy, has he seen him? Has he seen our son?" 

Judy bowed her head and nodded. "For a minute or two," she said. "Then he ran off. Darry and the boys are looking for him now. We have Jenny watching the little ones over at Keith and Kathy's place." 

Sherry closed her eyes. When he first had gone into rehab, it felt like things might be getting better. They could be a family again, a little scarred but functional at the very least. In the weeks that followed it seemed they were growing further apart. He had been distant when calling, the letters shorter than before. She wondered briefly if he even cared for her anymore or if it was a lie when he said he had loved her. If the cries she thought she had heard coming from him the night before, when she was on the edge of passing out on the community center floor was nothing more than a farce, a dream born of wishful thinking and too much time spent alone. 

Judy sighed and put a hand on Sherry's shoulder. 'It's not you," she said as if guessing what Sherry was thinking. She leaned back. "He's been a little off for months now. He doesn't play with the kids, keeps his distance. If Darry didn't drag him to our place, he wouldn't come at all. Doesn't eat, not what he should, if one of us doesn't force him. It's like he's closing himself off from the whole world, " she says, shaking her head. "It's like he's punishing himself." she added, "it's not you Sherry, he's not..." 

Judy must have seen the look on her face, the sorrow, the pain, because she stopped. "He just needs time. The boys will find him and then we can see where we go from there." She forces another smile. "He loves you," she says mirroring her own husbands words, "and the thought of the way he's treated you is killing him. He has a habit of self-pity you know. You should of seen him when you collapsed at the community center. He was so distraught. Wouldn't leave you for a second. He doesn't know how to process things right now and if I know him, he's taking the blame for everything on himself, like always does." 

Sherry digested this. It was true enough. Years of living in poverty and being surrounded by death had taken their toll on her husband. He had a habit for internalizing his pain until it ate him to pieces and in the process, hurt those around him. She knew this of course, but she thought bitterly, she was not sure if she forgive him for it, no matter how much she wanted. 

Instead, she forced her thoughts to the little baby she had given birth to but never had seen. At least her husband had done that. She forced herself to sit up with a grimace. A shot of red hot pain flew up her spine and her head swirled dizzily. 

Judy pushed her gently back into the bed. 'What on earth are you doing?" she asked. 

Sherry groaned and tried sitting up once more. "Going to see my son," she said through gritted teeth as if answering a stupid question. If she could not see her husband, she could at least see their son. It had been so long since she had been able to let the role of mother overwhelm her with the stubborn instinct that someone was more important than her, than her husband, than the world. 

"You sure you’re up for that Sherry?" Judy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Sherry pushed her sister-in-law's hand away and sat up. "I think I know my own body." she snapped, but her head was reeling. 

Let me at least get you a wheelchair so you don't end up sprawled on the floor, mmhm?" Judy asked. 

Of course, Sherry wanted to say that she by no means needed a wheelchair, but the lightness in her head and the heaviness of her lower body seemed to argue otherwise. She nodded her head, relenting. "Alright," she said agreeing. 

The room she was in was not far from the NICU. She didn't suppose it would have been. Even so, she was glad for the wheelchair because the closer she got to the room, the more her heart raced, the more her legs felt like Jell-O. She was not sure she could have stayed upright walking there, even if she had refused the wheelchair. 

It was horrible, the site that met her through the NICU's glass window. Babies, little tiny babies who could not possibly be to full term, hooked to tubes and wires. Their parents watched over them like stone statures, mournful and unmoving. It was all too familiar. 

Sherry closed her eyes and she could see Maggie, lying in her own ICU bed, oxygen tubes up her nose, IVs hooked to pale arms, unmoving and dead. She wondered how many parents in the room would end up with the same sight before them, if she too would see it again. Her stomach churned. 

Judy leaned down, hand on Sherry's shoulder. Her eyebrows were furrowed and eyes squinted in worry. "Are you okay Sherry? We can go back to the room." 

Sherry shook her head. Her husband hadn't the guts nor the notion to come see her again it seemed. He had broken his promise to be there when she had woken up but he at least had kept the promise to see their son. If he could do that much, than so could she. 

A nurse helped them both into smocks and masks, then lead them to a small incubator in the corner of the room. Sherry chocked back a sob as she looked inside. 

Her son was tiny. She mused that even she might fit him easily in one arm; the wedding ring on her finger could double as his bracelet. Oxygen tubes and some kind of fluid were hooked too him. A little cap covered his head and tuffs of red brown hair poked out. His face was red and wrinkled. His shoulders were scrunched and arms stiff. 

He let out small cries and Sherry's lip quivered. Judy leaned down. "Poor little thing. I'd be cranky too, wouldn't you?" 

Sherry forced a smile and nodded. "I suppose," she gulped, "I suppose so." 

"You know you can touch him," the nurse who had helped them into the smocks said, "so long as you mind the tubes and wires. I wouldn't be surprised if he recognized your voice." 

Sherry nodded and Judy wheeled her close to the incubator. Sherry's hand trembled and reached inside, lightly stroking her son's cheek. "Hey there little guy, I'm your mommy." She took a deep breath. He was so tiny, so beautiful. "I," what could she say? Sherry had never had trouble speaking her mind before but what about now? She shivered. "I'm sorry you had to come into the world like this. You gave me quite a scare you know." 

She reached for his hand with one finger and he grabbed hold. Sherry chocked back a sob. Judy leaned down. "Tough little guy, isn't he?" 

Sherry nodded her head. Her boy's grip wasn't strong but it surprised her all the same. She expected it to be lighter if existent at all. "I suppose so." She looked at him. Little nose, sharp but square, wide, short lips and a crinkle around the eyelids. Every inch of him was his father. 

"He's a Curtis after all." Sherry said. Curtis men were made from strong stuck. They didn't bend or break so easily. That is, she though bitterly, until they did. 

Judy squeezed Sherry's shoulder but said nothing. Sherry grimaced and leaned down looking back at her son. He wasn't crying anymore. His shoulder relaxed and he looked to be sleeping, breathing deeply in and out. 

Sherry gently removed her finger from his hand and caressed his forehead once more. "Mommy loves you," she said gently, "and I'm so sorry I couldn't keep you safe and warm longer but I'll make things okay. Your Aunt Judy is right. You're a tough little guy, just like," she licked her lips. "Just like your daddy, you met him right? I know he's not here right now. Truth be told, I don't know if he's coming back at all. But don't be mad at him though, leave that to me, mmhm? He loves you. I'm sure of it. Even if he doesn't know it yet. Hopefully he'll come around but even if he doesn't; we'll be okay you and me. I promise" 

Sherry removed her hand from the incubator. She closed her eyes and a deep heaviness overcame her. What if he really did never come back? What if she was left to raise their son alone? There was anger there, resentment maybe just a hint of despair. Could he really be that selfish? Did he love them at all? She didn't want to think about further and as much as she could already feel the love for her son swell up inside of her, looking at him only brought these feelings to the surface. The thought of her husband's departure left her sick to the stomach. 

"I'm tired," she said, "I think I want to go back to my room now." She looked at the floor. Sherry had never been short on words. Speaking her mind is what she did best when she was young. She'd never been they shy, silent type. That had always been him.... 

She rested her hand on her head and Judy moved her wheelchair to the door. "By cutie," she said towards the incubator. "We'll be back to see you real soon." Judy called. She then leaned into Sherry's ear. "It's going to be alright," she said. "Even if the boys don't find him, if he doesn't want to be found, we'll take care of both of you. If you need anything, anything at all, we're here." 

Sherry smiled despite herself. That was Judy to a tea. She and Darry were so alike that way, always taking care of everyone. She knew that her sister-in-law was doing everything she could to make this all easier. It wasn't really working but Sherry was in the very least, grateful. 

She didn't say this of course, as they headed back to the hospital room. Sherry wasn't the kind of person who reviled in silence but, right now, she needed it; afraid that if she opened her mouth to speak again she might cry and never stop. 

Judy seem to respect this and said nothing else the rest of the way there. The only sound came from the beeping of machines and scuffling of nurse's sneakers throughout the Obstetrics floor. It was deafening. 

They pulled up to Sherry's room and Judy opened the door. She started to wheel Sherry in but stopped suddenly after going only about a foot in with a harsh jerk. She gasped loudly and Sherry looked up, eyes wide. 

His shirt was dirty and not just with the dried blood from the night before. There was mud caked on and his hair was very disheveled. It looked like a few stray leafs and pine needles were tangled in. Sherry wondered how he ever got past hospital security. Her heart raced. "Ponyboy," she said with a shaky sob. 

He looked down at the ground, at his shoes. "Hey," he said quietly, 

Sherry chewed on her bottom lip. She didn’t trust herself to speak and wouldn't know what to say besides. She barely knew how to describe her feelings to herself, saying something to HIM felt pointless. 

He stood their awkwardly, hands on pockets, shifting the weight between his write and left feet, both of them caked in dried mud. She could see the outline of his hands moving up and down the side of his legs in the pockets. They must have been sweating; they always did when he was nervous. 

He coughed anxiously. "If, if you want me to leave," he said, "I will. Just say the word and I'll be gone." 

Sherry rolled her eyes. "Has anyone ever told you what an idiot you are?” It came out without a thought and Sherry had to stop herself from reaching up to cover her mouth before anything else came out. 

Ponyboy shrugged and laughed nervously. "A time or two." 

Sherry moved to roll herself to the bed. Ponyboy rushed over to help her. "Here," he said, "let me." He lifted his hands out of his pockets and wiped them on his jeans, then walked to the back of the chair, pushing her towards the bed. 

"Sorry, I'm not all that clean," he said, extending his hand to her. "Can you stand up?" 

Sherry nodded. "I'm sore not an invalid." Ponyboy stiffened and backed away. She hadn't meant to be so sharp with him and certainly not for it to come out so loudly. He backed away like a wounded animal. 

"Sorry," she said, "not myself right now. I really could use some help getting into bed." She tried to smile at him and stay calm. If she was sharp with her husband again, Sherry was frightened he might bolt. 

Ponyboy walked over and extended his hand. "Can you stand up?" he asked softly. Sherry nodded. She could try. She lifted herself on shaky feet. She stumbled and Ponyboy caught her, breath hitching. His face was red and there were dark circles around his eyes. He looked nervous, like when they first started dating. But there was more there though, something Sherry couldn't quite read. 

Her husband supported her back and arms and lifted her into the bed with shaky arms. Two or three years ago it would have been no trouble for him. Sherry said nothing about it, just leaned her head against the pillow, sweat drenching her forehead. 

Ponyboy sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at his lap. "Are, are you okay?" he asked softly. No, she wasn't, not really. Everything was sore and achy. Her son was fighting for each breath and it seemed like their marriage was falling apart she yawned and reached for his hand, giving it a little pat. 

"I'm fine," she lied, "just a little tired." 

"Oh," he said quietly moving his hand away from hers. His weight lifted from the bed and he stood to leave. Sherry's breath caught in her throat. She felt her face ashen. 

"Don't go," she whispered, throat raw. "Please." 

He turned around with a grimace on his face. He looked down at the ground and mumbled something that sounded for the entire world like "You'd be better off if I did." He really was the biggest, self-pitting idiot she knew. 

"And you decided that all on your own did you?" 

He turned around and ran his hands through his muddy hair. "I've been a lousy husband lately Sherry. I'm a screw up and, and I don't see that changing any time soon. You and the kid, y'all can do better than that. You'll find yourself a nice guy who isn't a lousy drunk and settle down. Won't have to worry about being yelled at for nothing or being beat on. You were right when you left me, you just shouldn't have come back. I'm clean now but I can't promise it'll stay that way." 

Sherry closed her eyes. Guilt indeed. It had been awful living with the man her husband had become. He walked the line between monster and infantile and it had nearly killed Sherry. She learned something in the last few months though. It was even worse without him. 

She took a deep breath. "I trust you," she said, eyes watering. "You're a nice guy Ponyboy, maybe a little too nice. I'm never going to find another man like you and frankly I don't even want to try. I love you, I really do but if you walk out that door and never come back, I will never forgive you." She was crying now, whether it was the hhormones raging from childbirth or the situation or even both, she really didn't care. "You can have a pity party all you want but nothing is going to change the fact that you're the man I want, the only one I want and maybe I'm the stupid one for seeing things that way but I don't care. You've been a real asshole lately, a total shit-head and I," she tightened her fists against the sheets, "I've put up with it because I know the kind of man you really are and I would risk a thousand years with the asshole to have one day with the good man I married." She began to sob. 

Ponyboy moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed. Gently, he took her hand in his again and was about to open his mouth to say something when a nurse walked in. 

"Excuse me sir," she said. Sherry looked up. "You can't be in here dressed like that, you'll spread germs. I'm going to have to ask you to go home and change." 

Ponyboy looked at Sherry and she shook her head. He squeezed her hand tightly with one hand and reached into his pocket with another. He let go for a moment and grabbed her with both hands and looked over his shoulder. "Alright," he said, "just give us a moment." The nurse nodded and left the room. 

Ponyboy reached down and kissed the hand he was holding. "You sure you want this," he asked, "because if you the word I can be gone and you want have to deal with this anymore." 

Sherry nodded her head. She wanted nothing more than him, there for her forever. The emptiness without him, no matter what form it took, was more then she could bear. Besides, she remembered his words from the night before. 

_"Getting sober again was the hardest thing I've ever done and I still don’t know if I can keep it up. At first, all I could think about was how much I wanted another drink. Then maybe I wouldn't have to think about what a shitty husband I was or how I wasn't sure I even wanted to Be a dad again or if I even knew how. I'm still not..."_

_"My friend, the one that died. His dad was an alcoholic too. Used to beat him with a two by four, yell and scream at him, make him feel less than worthless. Another friend, his dad was one too. Never had a kind word to say, kept throwing him out. Always was apologizing for the shitty way he treat'em. Nobody deserves that. And then with Maggie... I don't know if I'll ever be ready to be a dad again, or a husband. Don't even know if I should even get that chance..."_

_He sighed. "but I wanted to get sober for them... For my wife and the baby, but especially for my little girl. I hate to think of her looking down on me and wondering what happened to daddy? Why is he such a screw up? You know..."_

No man who wanted that badly to turn his life around was going to go and screw it up so easily again. Sherry nodded her head. "I just want you hear with me, and with our son. I know things will never be like they used to be, and" Sherry closed her eyes picturing her daughter’s sweet, angelic face and her husband's laughing eyes, "and there's nothing we can do about it. That doesn't mean we can't be happy together. Maybe I'm just being silly, you know my track record with men better than anybody, but I just can't see how being without you is any better for me then things were this time last year. You're not the man I married and I know that; but you’re also not the man who made me feel like a piece of shit either, unless you leave me again because that is how I would feel Ponyboy Curtis and you know it." 

She took a deep breath and looked at her husband. He bit his lip. "Okay," he said, "okay I won't go anywhere, at least, I mean; I'm not leaving the two of you. But...” he squeezed tighter and Sherry felt a sharp pressure against her palm. "but you have to promise me, if I ever start getting like that again, you'll leave me. Don't make me hurt you again because I couldn't live with that." 

Sherry shook her head. "For better or for worse, remember?" 

Her husband looked down at the floor and Sherry squeezed tighter, the pressure in her hand growing. "Alright," she said, "I promise if you ever start up drinking again I’ll leave, but only until you get yourself sober again, deal?" 

Ponyboy nodded wearily. She could not read his expression but she knew he agreed. "Deal." he said softly a moment later. 

Sherry stopped crying. "Good," she said, "now go get yourself cleaned up and call the boys. They must be worried to death about you." 

His lip twitched as if he wanted to smile. It had been so very long since Sherry had seen a genuine smile on his face. She'd always loved his smile. 

"You've got it," he said letting go of her hand. "And then I'm coming right back here, for real this time. I'll bring you some chocolate cake, how about it?" 

"A Pepsi too, I imagine." That was about all he ever ate when they were dating. Ponyboy blushed and nodded. It was as close to old times as things had ever been between them since Maggie's passing. 

Her husband nodded. "You know me too well." He stood up to leave and gave one last look at her. "I love you Sherry, you know that right? Even if I left, it's only because I love you." 

"I know," she lied. Truth was, as well as things were going, she didn't know anything anymore, maybe she never did. 

He walked out of the room with a shrug of the shoulders and she was alone again. She opened her hand where the pressure had been rising. A single silver charm lay against her palm, a pair of turtledoves, joined at the tips of their wings. 

All she could do was choke back a sob. Turtledoves mate for life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has been awhile since I have updated. I do apologize. Let me just advise that working two jobs and taking three graduate level courses over a six week period is not now, nor has it ever been a good idea. I hope you can forgive me and everyone is having a nice summer. I hope to have the next update up soon.


	14. Interlude 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders**

**True love is selfless. It is prepared to sacrifice. - Sadhu Vaswani**

As soon as the words come out of Steve's mouth, Ponyboy shuts down. "Turtledoves, turtledoves, turtledoves…" it repeats like a broken record in his head. His heart hammers in his chest and he doesn't think. He just runs. Runs out of the room, dashing down the stairs and through the electric doors and finally out into the parking lot.

He is vaguely aware of the sounds of ambulance sirens in the distance but does not may them any heed. He runs past cars, honking their horns, and angry drivers just wanting to get to the emergency room. He tries not to think about another night at the hospital, oh so many years ago when Dallas Winston, distraught over Johnny Cade's death had rushed out of the same doors and into his death.

But Ponyboy does not have a death wish. In fact, he has no idea what he really wants. He just knows he has to get away from there, away from the well-meaning but harsh lectures of his friends, from the wife and child who were alive but just barley and from the crushing weight of that one simple word, turtle doves.

It has been a long time since he has run like this, fast and long hard. His breath is winded from oh so many years of smoking and then the booze, but he keeps on running, the burning in his chest and lungs a second thought in the back recesses of his mind.

Cars continue to honk at him as he makes his way through the street, busy despite the late hour. He can hear some teenagers talking on street corners, no doubt thinking a good jumping would be in order, until they see the blood on his shirt and pants. He doesn't bother to stop and tell them that it's not his, or perhaps they already know. They leave him be and he keeps running, feet pounding heard against the pavement.

Eventually, he comes to a stop and leans over, hands over knees. His breathing is heavy and a dull fire works its way through the muscles of his calves. Panting, he looks up. Somehow he has ended up at the gates of Hill Hurst Cemetery.

It's a familiar sight. Almost everyone he loves is buried here, save Maggie who is miles and miles away, buried in a tiny coffin, in a cemetery not far from the house he and Sherry had until recently shared. Ponyboy is still not sure how he got there but as he looks through the rot iron gates and toward mossy graves he can't help but think he is there for a reason. So he does something he has not done in years and hops the fence.

Crickets chirp and thunder rolls in the distance but all Ponyboy can hear is the drumming in his ears and the pounding of his heart. There is something eerie about a graveyard night and melancholy. He thinks of Maggie then, alone under the earth and of the flowers he so often sends. He thinks of Sodapop, of Johnny and Dallas, and of his parents; who he has neither visited nor sent flowers for in quite some time, of all of the graves, barren and covered in dirt and dust. There is something discontenting there but he is no stranger to melancholy.

Without thinking, he walks until he finds himself at the foot of the grave belonging to Johnny Cade. The headstone is sparse and simple. Johnny's full name, his birthdate and death date. It had been a gift from the families of Windrexvill, most of whom were at least as poor as his own had been in those days. He was grateful though. Johnny deserved some commemoration and he was sorry he had not done more of the same. He loved his wife and until Maggie's death and his own spiral out of control, they had shared in everything; except this. They had lived through the events of that fateful week together, to be sure, but they were on separate sides of the conflict and in this, their pain was best unshared. So he had spent most of his married life, not talking about his dead best friend and not thinking about him besides. It felt like betrayal.

Ponyboy eases onto his knees and wipes away dirt and foliage from the stone, weather-beaten by the past 18 plus years. The thunder rolls once more in the distance and Ponyboy runs a dirt clad hand through his hair.

"Hey Johnny Cade," he says softly before letting out a harsh laugh.. What is he doing talking to a stone? It was hardly saner than his conversation with a hallucination. But Sodapop had seemed so real. The stone was cold and silent, not like Johnny had been at all, save perhaps the silence. Johnny had always listened to him in quite contemplation before offering up advice. So, as crazy as it was, Ponyboy kept talking.

"Man have I fucked things up," he said, "I haven't stayed gold buddy." He let out another bitter laugh. He was about as close to gold as tarnished silver was, a shallow imitation of what he once had been.

A rain drop filled softly on his head and Ponyboy was vaguely aware of the growing chill in the howl of the wind. "I beat my wife," he confesses over the whistling trees. "Just once, but I made her feel like complete and utter shit the rest off the time. If I wasn't doing that I was slobbering drunk that she had to take care of me. Our daughter had just died." Ponyboy gulped. Tears, bitter and angry fell down his face. "What kind of man does that Johnny. I should have been there for her, I should have…"

His breath caught in his throat and Ponyboy had no more words. He wished widely that Johnny really was there. Johnny had always understood what he meant without words. But Johnny wasn't there and that made things all the worse. Ponyboy can't help but feel fourteen all over again, lost and reeling over the deaths of his love ones.

Finally he whispers. "I'm leaving her Johnny. I have to, she can't, she can't…." He's asleep before he even finishes that sentence, weariness drifting over him like the coming storm.

A sharp stick pokes him in the stomach. "Wake up Ponyboy before you catch pneumonia."

Ponyboy blinks. ""Johnny?" he asks.

"Guess again."

Ponyboy's vision settles and he sees his brother standing before him, dripping with water from the falling rain.

"Soda, but I thought…"

Soda clutches his chest in mock hurt. "Well, sorry I ain't Johnnycake kiddo but jeez, no need to sound so disappointed. It's not my fault. He wanted to be here but this ain't a Christmas Carol."

"Huh?" Ponyboy asks tilting his head.

"'oh you know, the whole three ghostly visitor's thing. In the play mom took us all too…"

"I know what a Christmas Carol is," Ponyboy snaps, immediately regretting it.

"No need to be so testy about it, especially after I came all this way to help you. I thought you might be happy to see me."

Ponyboy is, he truly is. Oh God is he happy to see his brother, even if it is just another cruel hallucination. He hangs down his head in shame.

Sodapop quickly closes the distance between them. He lifts Ponyboy up by the scruffs of his arms and pulls him into a one armed hug. " I was only kidding, come on." Sodapop laughs pulling Ponyboy away from the grave. "we have some stuff to talk about." Ponyboy looks forlornly at the grave but he listens to his brother; he has always listened to Soda.

They begin to walk as thunder rumbles once more and rain falls softly from the sky. Ponyboy shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down as he walks. It strikes him for a moment that even with his head down, he and Sodapop are even in height now. It is the least of things that has changed.

Soda doesn't say anything for the first few minutes. It's eerie. When he was alive, Sodapop was rarely silent when Ponyboy was. If he wasn't listening, he was talking. Always had something to say, be it advise or a tease to cheer you up, It was unnerving Ponyboy.

The rain falls in drips against them but only Ponyboy seems to get wet. Soda smiles at him glumly and sighs. He runs his hands through his hair, long and blond as if he had never left for Vietnam . "Seems to me you've been doing a whole lot of thinking and I'm not so sure it was for the better. " He knocks Ponyboy soft on the chin so that they are looking each other in the eye.

"You screwed up kiddo, I ain't going to say otherwise but the way you're wallowing in it aint helping anybody, especially Sherry. You're killing yourself Ponyboy and I hate seeing you like this we all do but it's destroying her."

Ponyboy pulls away and grit his teeth. He knows this already. He's done nothing but wallow in self-pity and anger for the past two years and he's thrown it all off on Sherry. He's seen how he's fucked up everything. He'd just told Johnny as much. He did not need it thrown in his face again.

"Don't you think I know that Soda? I'm not an idiot." Sodapop looks at him so glumly then that Ponyboy immediately feels bad for snapping. He's always felt bad for yelling at Soda. I'm a lousy husband. Ok? I know Sherry deserves better and I've already got taken care of. I'm not going to be her problem anymore."

"Ponyboy…"Soda trailed off looking sad. "you can't just run away from things like this."

Ponyboy closes his eyes. What his Sodapop does not understand, what not seems to understand, is that he's not running away from all of this. He's not leaving Sherry and the baby because he does not want them to remind them what a complete and utter shit he is. He's leaving so they want have to live with him being like that. He thinks of Sherry lying there on the community center floor. He'd almost lost her and their son that day. It had nearly killed him. There was nothing he wanted more than to have the both of them, healthy and alive by his side except to see them happy. He didn't care what it meant. It was killing him to leave but the thought of hurting either member of his family like he had before was even worse. They deserved better.

He sighs and explains this to Soda. "Once I'm out of the picture she can hate me all she wants and find someone new. Sherry and the baby deserve the best and with me gone, they can find that,"Ponyboy adds in reiteration.

Sodapop shakes his head. "I'm not so sure that's going to happen Ponyboy." He says, uncertainly, rubbing his neck. "just because you step out doesn't mean she's going to let another guy in. I mean you don't stop loving somebody because they hurt you or leave you. It doesn't go away that easy I should know."

Ponyboy takes pause then. He wonders for a moment if Soda is talking about death. He shakes it off. Sodapop was never morbid. His eyes widen and he knows with sudden certainty who his brother is talking about.

"You still love Sandy," Ponyboy asks, "even after all this time and the way she treated you?"

Soda nods as the thunder grows quiet. "Yea buddy, I do. Even if I was still alive and kicking; I don't think I would go for another girl. Not sure Sherry would be going for another guy either. She came back after she left you and then when you dropped off the face of the earth came running after you. Doesn't seem to me that she'd be wanting somebody else."

She's a fool then, Ponyboy thinks sadly. He's damaged goods and Sherry... Sherry's always been way out of his league. She could do better anytime she wanted.

Soda, like he always has, seems to know what Ponyboy is thinking. He shakes his head and leans an arm over his brother's shoulder. They're not even an inch a part in height now, Ponyboy just centimeters taller than his brother, and he thinks morosely that it might have been comical to see man in his thirties being comforted and lectured by a teenager, were the teenager not dead and the man so lost.

"That woman's crazy for you. You known it's made us all so happy to see you with someone like that. She's been so good for you. When I lef..." Sodapop closes his eyes and hesitates, "when I died you were in a pretty bad way. I'd watch you and wonder if you'd ever smile again. Thought maybe you were going to follow right after me, and the one time I really didn't want you to buddy. But then Sherry came along and you opened up. And when she was with you, she did to. You let her be herself Pony. You keep her mellow and grounded, make her laugh and think. I've seen her with you and without you kiddo. You just, you make her light up. It's like I told you when you were a kid. It's real nice being in love kiddo but what I didn't tell you is that it's aint easy."

Ponyboy moves away from his brother as the thunder rolls away and the wind picks up."And I haven't been making it any easier on her, I know." Ponyboy blinks back tears. "I just, I want to make it easy Soda. I love to be with her. It hurts because every time I see her I see Maggie and what I've done to her after... I can't live with myself knowing that everyday I come another day closer to hurting again and again. I can't do that anymore. I just want to take the bandaid off and be done with it."

All he wants is to break her heart one more time so that I don't have to do it a thousand times. It's killing him to even think about it but the alternative hurts even worse.

Soda smiles. "I think that's a choice you should give her. I know I wish Sandy would have given it to me. It ain't right to make someone feel like they aren't worth staying around for, even if it's for the right person; not for them and not for you. You're a good person Pony and Sherry is so good for you. You deserve better than that, both of you. "

Ponyboy nods his head softly. His expression is solemn and sad. Soda has hardly said anything that Steve or Two-Bit have not but of course, like he always had, Soda had a way of putting things in a way that made his younger brother listen.

"if you say so," he replies. He knows his brother is right of course, but it doesn't make things any easier. "But if she says the word I'm gone. She deserves that too."

This time it is Soda who gives a soft nod of the head. He pulls his brother into a tight hug and. Ponyboy has the uneasy feeling that it is goodbye. "She won't thought," Soda says, "and you won't hurt her. What is it you were trying to tell Johnny about turtle doves," he adds with a laugh.

Ponyboy's heart lurches and he trembles. "They mate for life," he says in a shaky voice.

Sodapop lets go and gives one last movie star grin. "Good," he says,"then be a turtledove and stop moping around. You've got someone very special watching over you and I know she hates to see you sad." He ruffles his brother's hair and then he is gone.

Ponyboy wakes up and it as if his brother had never been there at all. It is morning and the sun as risen. The ground in front of Johnny's grave is caked with mud and so is Ponyboy. His face is wet and he cannot be sure if is from the crying or the rain. His brother's final words ring in his ears and the crying starts anew. He is not sure who Soda had been talking about, Cherry or Maggie, but it strikes a cord anyway. He knows he will do as Soda asked if not for all that it made sense than for the mere fact that it was Soda who asked, dream or hallucination or not.

He stands up and wipes away what dirt and foliage can before heading toward the gates. He knows he's a mess but if he doesn't go to see Sherry soon he does not think he ever will be able to. He's terrified that she might say no, she does not want him there anymore but another part of him fears the yes even more.

Even so, he makes his way to the hospital only making one short stop at the jewelry store he had worked at when the two of them were first married, ignoring the off-put look Mr. Barnes gives him when he walks inside. He purchases a small turtledove charm for the bracelet he had bought Sherry years before. Either way it is hers because despite everything, he loves her and he wants her to know that even if he leaves it will be because the opposite is true. He wants her to know this. He needs her to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. I lost half of the original chapter in a file crash. I am not sure if this one is as good but I hope you still enjoyed it.


	15. Chapter 13

In her dreams she could remember his touch against her skin, the feel of warm breath whispering in her ears as they fell asleep. She could feel his arms in circle her, the way they always did when he snuck up from behind, his chin nuzzling her hair. For awhile, she had thought that perhaps that was the only place she would ever feel such things again. It had scared her, scared her so bad it hurt. Then he had come and lay the simple charm in her hands. He'd smiled grimly at her and told her that he would do whatever she wanted, leave or stay.

It had been nearly too much. When he had gone from the room, Sherry broke down and she sobbed. Judy left her place in the corner and sat beside her, rubbing her back. "Well," she said, " I don't know what's gotten into that boy but I'm glad whatever it was did because I was afraid I was going to get that brother of his to knock some sense into him."  
Sherry laughed then, in spite of herself. Her stomach keened and her breath ached but she laughed, long and hard, choking back sobs. she finger the turtle doves softly, silver and shiny, with intertwined wings. It was more than a charm, it was a promise.

"He's coming back," she said, "he'll really be coming back this time." No more hiding, running away from who he had become and who he was afraid he would be. They could, they WOULD be a family again.

  
Judy squeezed her shoulder. "I'm glad," she said, "that boy of yours is going to need his daddy. "

  
Sherry wiped her eyes. Her boy, their boy. They would be a family. She could scarcely believe it. A broken family, but a family none the less. In the past 48 hours it had seemed less and less like a possablity but here it was. Sherry felt herself shaking, as if cold. She sobbed harder then, the damn braking.

  
Judy sat on the bed then and began to run soothing circles around Sherry's back. "It's good to see things going well for you two. Lord knows you've been through enough as it is. "  
Sherry appreciated her pressence. She really did. Judy was the older sister she had never had and just about the sweetest person she knew. Pony'd always been crazy about her. He used to tell her that he could not think of another 19 year old who would have agreed to take on the extra baggage of raising two teenage boys and taking care of their crazy friends.

  
Even now, she was taking care of Sherry and Ponyboy. It was in her nature, like Darry to take care of everyone or die trying. Sherry could not have been more grateful if she tried. It'd been Judy who had flown down after Maggie died and held Sherry's hand as she went through the closet looking for a dress to burry her in. It had been Judy making sure Pony'd been fed these past months. She was a saint.

  
Sherry smiled. "Let's just hope things stay that way."

  
Judy blew out a long breath of air as if to say "Me too" Instead she kept rubbing circles down Sherry's back. "Oh, I am sure they will. Ponyboy seemed pretty serious about staying if you'd let him. I told you he's plum crazy about you, just don't know what to do about it. Even if he wasn't serious, I imagine Darry'd talk some sense into him."

  
Talk or beat? Sherry laughed. Even after all these years, Ponyboy was half scared of his brother and Sherry could not really blame him.

  
"I don't know what we'd do without the two of you." She admitted. "You've been so good to us. And keeping Pony feed like that. You know how he is."

  
Judy shook her head. "When he gets in one of those moods of his its almost impossible to get some food in him. When we lost Soda, Darry was half inclined to tie him to a chair and force potatoes down his throat. " She grimaced then. "It wasn't untill you came along that he really started getting any weight back on him and really started to live again. You are so good for him." Judy laughed. "You know Keith swears up and down you were the first girl Ponyboy ever had a crush on. "

  
Sherry digested that. She'd always wondered if that was the case and felt like a total bitch for the way she had treated him back then. She'd wondered if maybe she'd deserved his recent behavior because of it.

  
Judy sat up so they were face to face. "You are the best thing that ever happened to him," She reiterated, "you really are. Darry and I wondered if he would ever be happy again. He's moped around so much without you here. I don't know what made him decide to stay but I'm glad it happened. You both are so much better together."

  
Better together... she smiled softly. Pony had made her a better woman. She made her less afraid to be open and honest with herself. He made her kinder, bolder. He'd made her a mother and even after they'd last Maggie, he'd made her less selfish. He'd made her face her very worst fears and slowly she was coming out of them again. Yes, for better or worse, they were better together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait and short update. Graduate school is kicking my but.


	16. Ch 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because when push comes to shove, they're better together.

**_Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders_**

**Dim your eyes and, heart at rest,**   
**Freed from all futile endeavor,**   
**Arms crossed on your slumbering breast,**   
**Banish vain desire forever.**

**Let us yield then, you and I,**   
**To the waftings, calm and sweet,**   
**As their breeze-blown lullaby**   
**Sways the gold grass at your feet.**

**And, when night begins to fall**   
**From the black oaks, darkening,**   
**In the nightingale’s soft call**   
**Our despair will, solemn, sing.- Paul Verlaine**

 

Judy’d left long ago in order to inform the boys, if they could still be called so, that Ponyboy was no longer MIA and to call off the manhunt. Sherry had once again found tiredness overtaking her, like the darkness thrown over one’s head with the burrowing of a blanket. She fell asleep with the lingering thought that she did not want to wake once more and find that everything in the past hour had been nothing but a dream, a wonderful, beautiful dream.

Wake up, she did however, to an all too familiar smell. It drifted into her nose, sweet and rustic. One did not marry into the Curtis family and not know that particular smell. CHOCOLATE! She groaned and felt another pleasant sensation, warm and perfect.

It’s an amazing thing being in love and perhaps the most amazing is the way your hands just seem to fit together like two pieces of puzzle, like lock and key. It’s wonderful how just that little tendril of feeling can make your heart and head swell and spin. It’s a miracle how sweaty palms fade away into blissful tenderness.

She could remember the first time that sensation came to her. It hadn’t come with Bob or any other boyfriend. It’d hadn’t even come with him at first. The feeling crept up on her before she’d a chance to fight it.

They’d been to visit the seashore. It had to 50 degrees or less outside but they’d wanted to go for a picnic outside the city. It wasn’t cliche with sunset blossoming or dancing feet in the water. They’d sat at the top of the dunes and the sky was grey and cloudy. They’d been sitting with knees up to their chests, sipping on Pepsi and watching the waves crashing. His hand slid over to hers and he caressed her palm. Her heart fluttered and the key had opened the lock to her heart. It was then she had first known she’d love him.

She knew that now as he held her hand. She’d knew it was him, even with closed eyes. There was no mistaking the feeling in her chest, the softness of his thumb against her skin. She let out a sigh and let her eyes flutter open, praying this was not a dream on the edge of waking.

He was half asleep himself, leaning against the chair, head resting on his shoulder. He’d cleaned himself up from before. His face was shaved and his hair was no longer braided in with leaves and foliage, even though it hung shaggily as if he’d forgotten to take a comb through it. His cloths were crip and clean. Blue jeans, a t-shirt and a jean jacket with white wool at the collar.

She squeezed his hand and rolled her head to look at him. “Ponyboy.” She said softly, The effect was instantaneous. His head shot up and he gave a gasp, hand falling from hers. His eyes were wide as he looked about. He turned to look at her.

His ears turned red and he’d paled a little. He was nervous, Sherry knew. She was to, to tell the truth. What should she say? Should she wait for him to speak? Where was there to go from here?

She watched him run his hands sheepishly threw his hair. “I brought you some cake and Pepsi. Don’t think doc’s to thrilled about it though.” He laughed nervously. It reminded her of when he’d taken her that first picnic and handed her the glass bottle of pepsi. He’d blushed and stuttered horribly that night. To think it had been so easy talking to her when he was fourteen and so much more had separated them. She’d found it cute.

Sherry tried to sit up then. Pony shot up then and placed hands on her shoulders. “Are you sure you should be doing that?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. This, this was the man she had married; her good old worry wort. “I’m perfectly capable of sitting up, thank you very much.” Her abdomen spammed. “On second thought, I could use a little help.”

He paused for a moment and then cocked a grin. He got out of the chair and pulled her up gently by the shoulders. Then he piled the pillows behind her back so she was fully sitting up and sat on the edge beside her.

A moment of silence passed between them before he asked her the question they’d both been dreading. “You sure you want this, me staying around I mean.There’s no guarantee I won’t…”

Sherry put a finger to his lips. She shook her head. It was hard to wrap her mind around it still. He hadn’t thought of running off on her because he didn’t care but because of his fear of hurting her. He’d run because he loved her and was pained by the hurt he caused her since Maggie’s passing. It was a funny sort of way of showing love but it meant he loved her very much. She also knew that she loved him.

“Ponyboy, if you don’t want to go back to all that, you won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked her. She thought but it. Truth be told she’d thought about little else for the past months.

She caressed his cheek. “Because.” she said, “I know you. You are a good man Ponyboy Michael Curtis, a good man.” she laughed, “ and a stubborn one. Once you set your mind to it you stick to something. You won’t become who you were again because I know how much it hurt you to see who that person was and what he’d done. You love me and you loved Maggie..” she paused for a minute thinking sadly for moment of her daughter. “And you love our son. You’d do anything for our children, You won’t hurt us again.”

He shuttered against her hand. She felt hot tears fall against her hand. She wiped at them gently and kissed him just under the tear ducts. He once joked about being a crybaby but she’d loved that about him.Until Maggie had died, he never had to hide his feelings behind anything before except of course his work. Darry’d told her once when they lost Sodapop that Ponyboy had buried himself so deep in focus on school and track that it was hard to know what he was thinking unless you knew him but even then he’d cried like a baby at night. That he wasn’t afraid to cry had been one of the things Sherry loved about her husband.

She felt her own tears begin to fall. He looked so young siting beside her. So very young and so very old too. He reminded her so much of a fourteen year old boy she’d talk’d to about sunsets, horses and all the injustices of life. They’d seen pretty more of those since all those years ago.

“Look at us,” he said miserably, “a couple of bawl babies.”

Sherry laughed in spite of herself. “we’re gonna give that little guy of ours a run for his money, huh?” She asked. Little guy of theirs…

They had a son. They had a beautiful, painful small and weak little son. That she’d nearly lost him too had almost been lost on Sherry. Looking at Ponyboy, she could tell it had not been so for him. Perhaps there in lied part of his instinct to flee, flee before he could feel lost again.

Ponyboy sighed. “I..I don’t know..” he said shakily …”he was crying something fierce when I saw him.”

“You saw him?” she asked. She could not remember if someone had told her so or not.

Ponyboy nodded. “Yeah, and he’s beautiful just like his mom.” Funny, she’d thought he looked just like Ponyboy.

She smiled softly. She gazed at Ponyboy, waiting for him to say something. Say something, but what she did not know. She thought back to when she’d first told him she was pregnant. She thought about those hateful words and how for three days they had drove her away from him, only to return fearing the worst.

Did he still feel that way, that their son was just a replacement for what they had lost? She hoped not.

He laid his head on her shoulder and sighed wearily. She looked down at him and saw that he was now fiddling with the turtle dove charm he’d given her.

“Where’d you get that anyways?” she asked.

He fingered it softly. “Old Mister Wizel’s store on 5th and Main. I got it a few months ago and I meant to send it to you but…”

“You didn’t know if you’d be coming home.” She finished sadly and he nodded.

“A bird with broken wings ain’t much use to anybody anyways,” he said.

She grabbed his hand in hers. “I don’t know but that. Seems to me broken wings heal in time.” He turned to look at her, eyes signing.

“You wrecken so?” he asked.

Sherry nodded. Of she did. She had to or she’d never believe that Judy was right that they could be a family again. “Yes but you know they never do so good flying solo.”

He sat down the charm and leaned in to chastely kiss her cheek. “And I thought I was the poet in the family.”

This, this was indeed the man she’d married. Quiet, sad somehow and yet cheeky and charming. She returned the kiss. “No,:” she said, “but you are the sweet talker Let’s hope that boy of ours gets some of the old Curtis charm.” She laughed. “your mama most have had her hands full between you three and your dad.”

Ponyboy shook his head sadly. “Dad and Soda maybe but Darry wasn’t the flirting type and I hadn’t gotten into girls by the time she had dad..” he paused, “anyway, Soda always was the charming one.”

Sherry smiled coyly. “Well, no arguments there. if you son’s anything like his uncle than I dread his teenage years. He’ll have the girls all over him.”

Ponyboy was quiet then and Sherry hoped she hadn’t said something to upset him, fragile as their new found reconciliation was.

But he spoke soon enough, turning to his side to face her. “I’ve thought about asking you if we could name him after Soda…” he said, “before I went off the deep end again.”

Sherry licked her lips. She knew, of course, how much Ponyboy had loved his brother. There was no competing with love like that and rightly so. Only Maggie ever came so close to his heart. It was hard at first, playing second fiddle to a ghost but she understood. Sodapop Curtis had been more than a pretty face and a barrel full of recklessness. She had known him vaguely of course, flirted with him at the DX and school like so many girls. it was only when she had started dating her husband that she truly begin to appreciate the man he had been. She’d been amazed by stories of his kindness, his selflessness. Time has a way of letting loved ones forget faults but she doubted if her husband so completely wrong about his brother. Nobody who inspired that much love and devotion could be half bad.

“I’d gladly say yes.” She said.

Ponyboy shook his head. “I’d love nothing more but it wouldn’t be fair, “ he said softly.

Not fair? Sherry asked why.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It was good, naming Maggie after my mother. She was a wonderful woman and,” his voice cracked a little, “I hoped that she’d grow up to be like her but that’s not right. She should be her own person. There are a ton of Margarets in the world, probably a lot of them Curtis women too. Point is, Maggie didn’t have to worry about being anyone else but there’s only ever been one Sodapop Curtis and that’s a lot to live up to.”

She held his hand then. “I suppose it is.” she said and it was. It had been the first thing she had learned about her husband, how much he loved his brother and that kind of love and that kind of person, it wouldn’t be fair to try and force their son to live up to that.

Ponyboy shook his head. “We can’t really have a Darrel Shayne either.” he added and this was also true. Darry’s youngest had already claimed that one.

She’d thought briefly about the name Jonathan Robert, to show that the rift between their pasts had been mended but the idea had been painful. When she’d been pregnant with Maggie, she and Ponyboy had thrown around literary names for a boy but a name like Rhett or Fitzwilliam seemed a little cruel.

“I guess we’ll decide on a name later,” she said, “when we’ve spent more time with him.” She leaned forward and Ponyboy put a hand on her shoulder to gently lay her back in bed. “What are you doing?” he asked.

‘Well,” she said, “all this has made me want to see out son again. He hasn’t gotten to be with the both of us yet. I thought it might be nice.”

Ponyboy crossed his arms. he raised a single eyebrow. “Don’t you think you should rest some more first.” He wasn’t completely wrong. Her abdomen still ached and she was tired. This of course, was not about to stop her.

“I’ve slept almost the whole time you’ve been gone,” she said. “Now you can help me out of this bed or I’ll be getting up myself. What’s it going to be?”

He stared at her. “You’re not kidding, are you?” he asked sardonically.

She eyed him and he shook his head. “I’ll take that as a no…” he sat up stood off the bed. He turned his head to look at her and she knew she had won. “but I hope you know you’re taking a wheelchair down there.”

She grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	17. The New Normal

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders

The meeting hall was large, too large for their small group munching on red kool-aid and eating finger sandwiches. Sherry wiped her face with a napkin, ruby lipstick coming off with cream cheese and bits of cucumber. 

She leaned forward in her chair and listened as Emilio spoke. He was a rotund man with a thick beard and resealing hairline. 

“You never lose that fear,” he said, “the fear that it could all start again and you’ll spiral out of control. It’s put a real strain on Kathy’s and my marriage. I always worry our blender will be full of tabasco and lemon juice for a hangover instead of breakfast smoothies for the kids. She’s been trying really hard but it’s not easy to just trust again and go back to normal.” He laughed bitterly, barking in place of a snort. His head shook and he ran ahead through his thinning hair. 

“Maybe this is the new normal.”

Emilio nodded his head and sat back down as everyone clapped. 

The new normal! Sherry could not help but thank that was as good a way as any as a way to go about describing life after alcohol had taken hold of everything after it stole her husband from her once and the lingering fear of its power had nearly stolen him from her again. 

It had in the wake of Maggie’s death taken something from them, something beautiful and twisted it into a distorted, grotesque version of what once had been. It had seen an opening and tore its way through making both hers and Ponyboy’s lives a living hell. And even in the aftermath of the storm when life was good, well as much as could be expected after such cause, the damage had been done. 

Things were not the same as they once were and she’d be lying if some part of her did not fear to lose her husband to the abyss again. She wiped her mouth once more and stood up. 

“My name is Sherry Curtis. I’m 38 years old and my husband is a recovering alcoholic.” She had shared the story before, once or twice but the need to tell it again pushed at her and pulled until she found herself standing up. 

‘We met when I was 17 and he was 14. And I guess that was really the start of everything that happened.” She laughed bitterly. “My boyfriend at the time was an alcoholic too. I guess you could say I have a certain taste in men.”

Sherry closed her eyes remembering Bob, remembering Dallas Winston. Oh she had a certain taste in men all right, 

“Bob, my boyfriend at the time was on the surface a parent’s wet dream. We were the perfect couple you see. I was the cheerleader and he was a bright basketball star. He was handsome, charismatic, kind when he wanted to be…but he was also a drunk.”

Sherry licked her lips, picturing Bob Sheldon, dark blue eyes and sharp, wavy hair and a well kept Madras shirt. She’d loved him at one point, or rather been in love with him. Now that she was older, she could see the difference.

“That’s how I met my husband incidentally. Bob and I had gone to the movies, a double date with my friend and his best friend. Of the course the boys were drunk. I was mad. I couldn't stand it when Bob drank. He was way too fresh and he was mean, so Marcia, my friend, and I left. We went to sit by ourselves. There were these boys behind us and one of them, he was a real hood too, you know the kind your mother warns you about” she laughed again, shaking her head. She had never told anyone this part of the story before. “he started in on me, talking real dirty too. He went to get me a coke and a throw it in his face.”

There was some laughter from Iniz and Ernie and soon the rest joined in. It was kind of funny, in its own way. This little teenage girl throwing a coke in the face of the town jailbird. It took a lot of nerve. Something until recently, she did not realize she had in spades. 

“I thought he was going to smack me but these two boys behind him, his friends told him off and he left. That must have taken a lot of courage. Marcia and I we asked them to sit with us. One of those boys was my husband. The other was a little older, shy, sweet and the product of an alcoholic father’s daily beatings. I went to the snack bar with the boy who would be my husband. He said something to me that chilled me to the bone.”

It was hard talking about Johnny and about Bob. Both died before seeing their 18th birthdays and both were in their own respective ways what brought she and Ponyboy together but neither dared talk about one with the other and for good reason of course. It was far too easy to take sides and lay blame. 

“The other boy, Johnny had been mugged a few months prior, beaten and threatened and nearly killed. He had a bad scar from it too, from some rings. As soon as Ponyboy got the words out of his mouth I knew it was Bob who did it. He had bragged once about beating up some white trash. I was nearly sick.”

The room got quiet. A few meeting goers, near here age perked up, Anyone who went to Will Rogers High School around that time knew the story and how it ended. She told them about how the boys had offered to walk her home, about her boyfriend interceding and then came the worst of it, the murder. 

“I was 17 and I felt like a widower. I had loved Bob in my own way and he was dead. All because he got drunk and decided to jump some poor boys who were doing the right thing. My husband, he nearly died that night. If Johnny Cade had not interceded and stabbed Bob, he probably would have. It’s hard to think about because I loved Bob but you know..” her voice cracked. 

“I love my husband more. From the moment we met, he meant something to me. He was a sweet kid. I didn’t feel anything for him then like I do now but I liked him. He was real dreamy, head in the clouds, saw the world and didn’t hate it. I liked the way he told stories about his family and I felt sorry for him too. His parents had just died and he was being raised by his older brother. It must have been hard. Especially with what happened next.”

She rehashed the murder again, the fire about being a spy and about what happened next. “I think about and I think about what a real bitch I must have seemed like because I ignored him. We were both in so much pain and we could have helped each other, I see that now. But I just ignored him at best, at worst stuck my nose up at him said mean things behind his back.”

She’d never get back that time either. It killed her every day because she knew what happened next. She knows the unbearable grief that came just as things were looking up and she makes sure to mention it. 

“We met again in college. He was working at the bookstore. We were in Road Island, far from anyone who would have cared we if fraternized. There was no Soc or Greaser, just college kids. Besides, we had a bigger enemy in common. Vietnam was just ending and I had learned it had taken his brother along with it. I hated that. Everyone knew my husband’s brother. He was real handsome and charming, the clerk at a local gas station. but all I could think about when he told me was the way he had talked about him all those years ago.”

Sherry paused. “He worshiped the ground his brother walked on. You know they even shared a bed because after my husband’s parents died he started having night terrors. I don’t know how he survived that one but even seeing him again, I could see it weighing on him. That should have been the first sign of things to come.”

She could picture Ponyboy. Not tall but certainly taller than she had first known him to be. His green eyes had shadows under them and his hair was shaggy. He was skinny, so skinny.. but he was handsome in a John Denver, Bob Dillion sort of way. There was something ethereal about him. He walked as if the weight of the world was on his shoulder. 

He was sweet though, dreamy even. wine. He’d read me poetry and we talked. I used to be kind of proud about that. His eldest brother told me when Ponyboy took me home that he’d not talked to anyone as much as me save for their brother, Soda. I could get him talking and I loved to talk with him. He had a way of seeing things, such a beautiful way.”

She told them about the painting about living in the back of her brother in law’s house in a trailer and how she’d been disowned. “His family became mine and it was hard but I felt loved. His brother and sister-in-law were nothing but good to us and even back then, I could tell he was going to be a great father.”

This is where it really got hard. 

“Darry and Judy, they had already had their first child, our niece Jenny. She’d been born right before their other brother, Soda had been drafted. She and Pony were real close and looking back on it, I can remember Darry saying that Jenny was what kept Pony sane during that time. He never did deal well with grief and this time he kept himself going. Didn’t eat, didn’t sleep just went to school, went to work and track. He wouldn’t sleep,” Sherry breathed, “ I think I mentioned that. He’d just stay up nights rocking the baby to sleep. It wasn’t until we started dating that he began to really live again.”

It sounded conceded. She knew it did but it was true. Darry, Steve, Keith, they’d all told her as much. She could still remember Steve of all people taking her aside. ‘If you do anything to hurt that kid, I want you to know I won’t hesitate to do something about it. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.’

Truth was, she wouldn’t dream of hurting him again. She really had been a bitch back then, in high school; ignoring him like that. He’d deserved better. 

“We were happy for awhile. Life was simple and we weren’t well off but we were content. He used to write me little love poems after my sectorial shift. He worked for a local newspaper. Life was good. Then we got the call. My old professor had suggested me for an advertising job, so we moved back to Rhode Island. We had more money and Ponyboy’d just sold his first book. Life was good and a year later it got even better, Maggie was born.”

Sherry’s heart pounded in her chest. She closed her eyes and pictured her red haired, green eyed little girl, frolicking around in a dress, tumbling in the grass with her father. It had gotten easier to talk about Maggie but sometimes, like now, it felt like the hardest thing she had to do. 

“This week, she would have turned 13.” 

The room seemed to get quieter and Sherry could feel all eyes on her. The temperature seemed to rise and she could feel herself begin to sweat. 13, it was hard to imagine. Maggie would have been a handful…

Sherry found herself tugging at the turtledove charm on the bracelet her husband had given her. “ We had her with us for four years, four wonderful years. She was my best friend and the apple of her daddy’s eyes. Feisty as hell; curious and never afraid to speak her mind…but so sweet. She was our everything, our world and then one week I had a business trip and Ponyboy’s book tour was just ending. We had to leave her with a sitter.”

It was that fact that haunted Sherry and she knew Ponyboy too and always would. The what ifs. What if they were home with Maggie? Would they have gotten her to the hospital in time?

Sherry found herself recounting the frantic phone call, the amputation the screaming and the pure torture of watching their daughter in agony as the meningitis slowly stole her from them. “She died laying between us, listening to her father reading the book he wrote for her, one last bedtime story.”

Tears cascaded down Sherry’s cheeks. “It must have been the last straw. So much death surrounding him and then this. I was floundering and he, he just couldn’t cope, not on his own. That’s when the drinking started and for awhile it didn't look like it would ever stop. I can’t remember a time in the next four years when he wasn’t drunk or hungover. he didn’t write, didn’t paint and he sure didn’t eat. It was hard enough watching my daughter die but watching my husband waste away before my eyes; the vibrant poetic man I loved shriveled into this, this nothing. It was pure torture and I wish I could say it was the worst of it.” Sherry laughed bitterly. 

“The new normal, the new normal for us was fighting, all the time; nightmares and yelling, watching him curl up on Maggie’s bed and sobbing, blowing chunks not five minutes after, getting into fights at bars. And was he mean…”

Her husband had never been cruel before. He’d been a little hurtful that night in the lot years ago but he'd never been outright vicious before he started drinking. He’d called her such terrible things broke furniture and vases.

“He only hit me once. Just the once but the things he said, they were horrible. This wasn’t the man I married… And then after a night of, well…You can imagine. I was pregnant again. He was furious. Screamed at me. Told me I was a whore and that I was trying to replace our daughter and…He broke a hole through our wall. So, I left.”

And it had been the hardest thing she ever did.

“I came back, of course, a few days letter. I found a note, a poem. I thought he had committed suicide. Imagine how relieved I was when he came sauntering into the room, stable and all telling me he was checking into rehab…”

She’d never been so relieved. The idea of Ponyboy lying dead or dangling from the ceiling had been her biggest fear in that time. 

“ I wish I could say that was the end of it but it wasn’t. He got sober but he stayed in Tulsa. I flew up to surprise him for his six-month celebration. Went into early labor., placental abruption. It nearly killed me and the baby both. We were lucky though. But Ponyboy nearly left me after that. 

Not out of spite or anything like that. I think he thought he was the cause and that he was toxic to us, attracted death. Maybe he was scared he had to watch us die. I know part of it was because he was afraid he’d hurt us again somehow, relapse and be that hideous beast that alcohol made him into.”

There were a few nods and murmurs. It was a familiar enough story. Not everyone skipped out on their families because they didn’t care and she was sure at least one of the people in the room had a similar tale. 

“I don’t know what brought him back to us for sure. He always told me it was his guardian angel, knocking some sense into him but he came back, the day after our son was born. I’d like to say it was all happily ever after but nothing is ever that easy…”

And it wasn’t. Their son was still premature, a small little thing who wouldn’t feed or stop crying even though it was clear he was fighting for each breath. It broke both of their hearts to see their little guy like that.

A nurse was the one who came up with a solution, as good as any they were going to find. She called it kangaroo care, something new to the area hospitals. 

“You can hold him, for a while if you like”, she’d said, “skin to skin contact is good for premie babies.It’s called Kangaroo Care. It’ll be good for your recovery as well.” Sherry had nodded and Ponyboy helped her into a rocking chair. They’d handed her their son, wires and all and placed him against her bare skin, pulling the hospital gown down. 

Her little guy hiccuped and cried, trying his hardest to catch his breath even with small oxygen tubes in his nose. They placed him against her skin and she cried. She had not held a baby since Maggie and Maggie had then been a healthy thing, ready to take on the world from her first breath. Her brother, was struggling.

“I can still remember the look on Ponyboy’s face, pure torture. He looked the way I felt. His hand was shaking as if wanting into stroke our boy’s little back, anything to make him warmer but he just sat there and talked. Said he was sorry that he got saddled with such a lousy dad and for all of this, for being born early as if it was his fault it happened. To this day I’m not sure which of us feels more guilty…”

Sherry paused and licked her lips. It had been hard, so hard. The look of pure agony on her husband’s face had been horrible and she was sure it was mirrored on her own. Their son was red and blotchy, so very tiny. They began talking to him and rubbing his back. He seemed to respond to that calming. The crying stopped and he struggled to breathe still but he calmed. 

“He was in the hospital for three months. Infections, surgery on his intestines and retinas, draining blood and fluid from the brain. it was a hard road. When things looked up they would come down again off and up and down. We weren’t sure what life was going to be like after that. My husband and I didn’t have time to find normal again for a long time. Even after we brought our boy home, our little Steven, we still struggle and things will never be like they were before Maggie died but that's our new normal now and I guess we have to live with it.”

She sat down and everyone in the room clapped. She took a deep breath and nodded her head, what else could she do? It wasn’t a lie. Things weren’t horrible. Her son was alive and home with them but he was often sick and there were other things too. Most of the time, things were good but there were times when she and Ponyboy found themselves slipping. One of them would get angry and then leave for a few hours but they always came back. Alcohol was avoided at all costs and there aways seemed to be a hint of nervousness and mistrust in the air when things got really bad. Then the two of them would talk, as their marriage counselor, a woman Steve had referred them to had instructed. Things would calm but there was still that egg shell feeling. 

Things could not be easy like they were before. They weren’t horrible. She loved her husband and her son. Most days, Ponyboy got out of bed and he’d actually smile, go for a jog and come back with coffee for the pair of them. They were happy. Like she said for better or worse, it was their new normal and that was something they had to live with. 

She walked outside of the doors of the meeting hall, shaking Emilio's hand and walked toward the red stingray waiting for her in the parking lot. The front door opened and then the back door. 

A little boy with glasses waved his hand out at her and Sherry found herself smiling. Ponyboy stepped out of the car and lifted him out of the back seat, setting him on the ground. 

Her husband was still unnervingly skinny but the shadows were gone from his eyes these days, skin stubbleless and smooth. His clothes, jeans and an ACDC T-shirt neat and tidy. He grinned at her patting their son on the shoulder, bending down to whisper something in his ear. 

Stevie grinned and waved some more before striding over and wrapping tiny arms around her legs. “Mama!” 

Sherry bent down and hugged him tightly. He was an endearingly cute child, small for his age and a bit paler than most with the biggest brownest eyes she’d ever seen, framed in silver glasses and shaggy auburn hair. Light freckles dusted his nose. 

He was the apple of her eye. Shy and thoughtful much in contrast to Maggie. He loved cuddles and Ninja Turtles. Though he was often in the hospital or at the doctor's, they were assured he would live a long and happy life so long as care was taken. 

He’d never be an athlete like she or Pony or even Maggie was. Complications at birth had taken care of that but he was smart and witty, so much like Ponyboy, that sometimes it was uncanny. It would have been so painful to deal with had her husband really left them but now she found it endearing. 

They’d named him Steven Patrick. There would only be one Sodapop Curtis but another Patrick Curtis was always welcome in the world and after all, he’d done for Ponyboy, Steven seemed a proper first name. It always put a smirk on Ponyboy’s face and even Steve who had never been the chippers of fellows seemed honored and would laugh. 

“If we’d told Soda you would have ever named your kid after me he wouldn’t half believe it.” Of course, the men were much closer then they were as boys and Stevie adored his ‘adopted uncle’ and namesake. 

Stevie pulled away and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “Look, Mama, Look what I made for the party.”

Sherry smiled warmly and opened up the paper to find a child’s scribbled drawing. It was hard to make out but she could see what it was. A man, a woman, and a little boy. Holding the little boy’s hand was a stick figure girl in a scribble pink tutu and a golden halo on her head. In handwriting, she was sure was assisted by her husband or one of Stevie's cousins were two little words, “Our Family.” 

She felt her heart catch in her throat. “Do you think Maggie will like it?” Sherry nodded blinking back tears. 

That afternoon they were going to have a party, all Stevie’s idea. It was a celebration of life, for what would have been Maggie’s 13th birthday. Their therapist had wholeheartedly supported the idea, though she and Pony had been unsure about the whole thing. She said it would help the healing process and that it would be a good way to build a connection between Stevie and the sister he’d never get to know. 

Stevie had always been enamored with the idea of his sister. In the hospital visiting with Stevie, Ponyboy had written a book, the first since Maggie had died, for their little boy. It was about how a little angel had seen how sad her mommy and daddy were and asked God to send them a little baby to make them not so lonely anymore. God had let her pick the perfect baby brother and from that day on she watched over him from heaven. 

It was Stevie’s absolute favorite book and whenever he was in the hospital for his intestines or for his asthma he would smile and tell the nurses he wasn’t scared because his big sister was watching over him,Tears would flow down Ponyboy’s face as his lips curled up into a smile, telling Steve about Maggie’s favorite flowers and how she wanted to be a cowgirl ballerina. 

She smiled down at Stevie and wiped away her tears. “I didn’t mean to make you cry Mama, daddy either. He cried too and Uncle Steve when he helped me write it.”

Sherry kissed his forehead. “We’re not crying because we’re sad, “ she said though that was not entirely the case. “We’re crying because it’s so sweet of you to make such a beautiful present for your big sister. You’re a good little brother.”

Stevie grinned. “Well, sometimes Uncle Soda gets a party from Daddy and Uncle Darry so I wanted Maggie to have one too. Jenny says every girl likes to have a big party when they turn 13. It wouldn’t be fair if I had a big birthday this year and not Maggie.”

Sherry looked up at Ponyboy. He shrugged. His eyes were misty but he was smiling. That was something at least. Having Stevie and moving back to Tulsa had been good for him, for both of them in so many ways. 

“You’re right”, she said, “Let’s go to Uncle Darry’s now so we’re not late for the party…”

Stevie grinned, the same big grin she’d seen in pictures of Sodapop when he was a little boy. “Yay!”

She looked up at her husband thinking about all they had shared between them, sorrow pain, joy. Nothing was the same as it was before but they had each other and they had Stevie. Maybe the new normal wasn’t so bad. 

The End!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been a joy to write. It started off as nothing more than a one-shot but became so much more. When I started it, I was merely an undergraduate student. It saw me through the three-year battle between finishing my masters or finding my passion. I still love what I studied but I have also found love in a wonderful man and a great new job. Both helped bring a new perspective


End file.
